


The Only Way to Survive Is to Breathe Deep and Dive

by DisplacedWarrior



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:03:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8763406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisplacedWarrior/pseuds/DisplacedWarrior
Summary: Maggie barely registers the crunch of glass under her boot, some distant part of her brain molded at the academy yells protocol, that this is a crime scene. She tries to take a deep breath but the air is deathly still and it gets caught in her throat. Maggie knows she needs to call this into the precinct, but these were her people, their safe haven.Follows Maggie through 2.08





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short piece to work through my 2.08 Maggie Sawyer feels because the alien bar massacre quite honestly fucked me up. As you can see it kinda got a bit out of hand.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Also I have crazy anxiety and I'm working on responding to all the amazing comments on my other stories but I just wanted to say that holy shit every single comment has meant the entire world to me and has been a huge factor in the amount of writing I've been doing so thank you all so much <3 ~~

Maggie barely registers the crunch of glass under her boot, some distant part of her brain molded at the academy yells protocol, that this is a crime scene. The call from the bartender who replaced Megan echoes in her head drowning it out, high and panicked, _They’re all dead_.

_**All** dead._

_All **dead**_

_All the aliens are dead_

Maggie tries to take a deep breath but the air is deathly still and it gets caught in her throat. Her head feels light enough without the additional lack of oxygen. She knows she needs to call this into the precinct, rules and regulations exist for a reason but these were her _people_ , their _safe haven_. 

She should have been there. Should have been able to prevent this. Should have—

The world tilts precariously on its axis, the unnatural silence of the bar only punctuated by electronic game effects, the overturned tables and chairs, the bodies- **fuck** \- the _bodies_.

Everything swirls together as Maggie dashes out the door as far into the alley as she can make it. 

Maggie had never thrown up at a crime scene. She was one of the few rookies of her class to hold that distinction. Her first time on the other side of the yellow caution tape was investigating a murder-suicide. The other rookie barely made it outside to throw up his lunch in the bushes, Maggie merely pointed out the gunshot wounds appeared to ballistically match the shotgun at the deceased's feet. 

Her training officer nodded in a rare show of approval grunting something about a naturally strong constitution and left it at that. It was worth the burning in her throat that lasted well into the next day from the bile that lingered, kept down through sheer force of will.

If she could survive the streets of Gotham all on her own in those early days there wasn’t much she couldn’t do with some tried and true grit. It would take more than a little bit of strive to make a name for herself, as herself in such a traditional old boys club, but then Maggie had learned through necessity to appreciate a challenge.

Maggie sarcastically thanked the years of scar tissue from growing up a non-white, non-straight girl in Blue Springs, Nebraska for having such thick skin. 

It served her well but city life, be it Gotham or National brought with it, its own unique trials and tribulations and her walls only grew thicker. 

Maggie Sawyer never did have the luxury of showing any weakness. 

In the present moment, no amount of fortitude or painstakingly crafted walls are doing her a damn lick of good. The image is seared into her retinas, of the fallen who were now scattered on the floor of their place of refuge. 

A sob rips from her throat but it’s cut short as she ends up retching into a busted up dumpster. 

She runs a shaky hand through her hair, barely feels the scrape of rough cement when her palm makes contact with the wall instead of falling back to her side. Maggie leans her full weight forward, idly observing that one unsteady hand is bearing the brunt of keeping her upright.

The ground is, she knows logically, stable and solid underneath her feet. That kind of constant, immutable fact seems wrong, like the earth should be shifting and broken, a testament to the gravitas of what’s happened.

Maggie tries to order her thoughts, tries to wade through the swirling emotions clouding her mind, dumpsters don’t bend that way naturally and she most likely just threw-up into evidence. 

She needs to get a hold of herself, falling apart isn’t an option. She needs to do her job, a hate crime of this magnitude poses the very real threat of not being an isolated incident. She needs to pull herself together and get her unit out here. Find the bastard that did this and—

She calls Alex instead. 

It goes to voicemail. 

Maggie straightens up, forcing a focus she doesn’t feel towards things she can **do**. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, spits and then marches to her cruiser.

She cordons off the entrance with police tape and sets up a few barricades at the mouth of the alleyway. She reaches for the radio to officially call it in but hesitates at the last second. 

Maggie reaches for her phone instead, calls in a favor. She tells herself it’s logic that this should be kept quiet, so as not to induce panic. They’ll send over a few plain-clothes detectives to round up as many witnesses as possible for statements. A forensics team will take longer, there’s something about Thanksgiving and family togetherness that brings out the murder in people.

In the meantime Maggie grabs a pad and pen, ducking under the tape and back into the bar to carefully survey the scene. She picks her way through the carnage noting each victim without disturbing the evidence. 

Maggie angrily swallows the lump in her throat, she knows all but two of their names. 

Maggie rattles off a few words in languages her tongue struggles to wrap itself around, words of honor or safe journey or simply heartfelt goodbye. She doesn’t know the custom for each species present, she hopes what she does know is enough.

She makes her way behind the bar and stops short, her knees hit the wooden floor full force but the physical pain doesn’t register at all.

“Darla, no.” Maggie shakily reaches out, tenderly brushing aside a lock of blonde hair. Maggie’s morbidly grateful Darla’s eyes are open, it spares her the indulgence of imagining she were just sleeping. Memories, years old now echo, the Roltikkan asleep in a younger Maggie’s bed.

The numbness settles, they spoke yesterday 

_“Your usual Mags? No tall, dark and easily flustered tonight?”_

_“Are you ever gonna lay off with that Darla we’re just friends.”_

_“Really, so if I were to lick you right now.” Darla waggles her tongue playfully as Maggie rolls her eyes grumbling._

_“Don’t you dare.”_

_Darla darts in playfully swiping her tongue across Maggie’s cheek._

_“I hate you.”_

_“Nah see, can’t hide that you love me.”_

_“Yeah, yeah don’t let it get to your head.”_

_“Not as much as you love her, though.” Darla saunters away before Maggie can formulate a response._

Darla who fled the constraints of her homeworld ending up on earth in search of freedom.

Darla who spent hours tracing every available inch of Maggie’s skin tasting the intricacies of a brand new culture seen through Maggie’s eyes. 

Darla who could speak English, Spanish and Sarcasm fluently by the time she and Maggie broke up.

Darla who eventually learned that even telepathy was no match against someone so firmly entrenched in emotional self-preservation it was character trait instead of an action.

Darla who still called her Mags and snarked at the rare girl Maggie ever brought around to see if they were worthy. 

Darla who was her ex, yes but also her friend.

Darla who—

They spoke yesterday and now...

Alex’s sudden arrival breaks through her tormenting thoughts, it's too frantic, too loud in the solemnity that has settled over the bar.

“Ma—  
—ggie. Maggie feels more than hears Alex’s sharp intake of breath even though she’s across the bar.

Alex’s pained almost absentminded whisper of, “Rao.” Supergirl’s god, hits Maggie square in the chest. 

Maggie rises off the floor and moves on autopilot to where Alex stands dazed.

“Twenty-three dead. All alien. Syvilian, Bomorg, Craziari, Tausubanian, Roltikkan, honestly there are almost as many species as there are vics.” Maggie’s voice is entirely devoid of emotion and Alex snaps her head around at the sound. 

“Rol—Darla?” Alex asks haltingly.

Maggie only manages a curt nod.

Alex reaches out to comfort her but Maggie shrinks back. Maggie needs the anger, the air of indifference. She could lose her cool when this was all over but if Alex touched her now...

“There are no obvious wounds to indicate cause of death but there's some kind of device on the underside of the bar.” She’s actively avoiding Alex’s gaze now, holding herself together hasn’t been a problem in years. Then Alex freakin’ Danvers showed up, bulldozing half her walls before she even got the chance to notice.

Alex doesn’t know what to do with all of _**this**_. Sure, Mon-El had run them through what happened a few times and Alex hadn’t hesitated when she needed to convince Kara in blunt terms that some unexplained weapon was indiscriminately killing aliens so **her** _alien_ sister needed to stay put. 

Alex had even filled in Eliza on the way, minds racing with hypotheses on exposure, dispersion, effect despite variant physiology.

But here and now standing in this bar she’s spent almost as much time in over the last month as her own apartment. Surrounded by more than a few familiar faces still with death…

Maggie’s words from that first day come back to her then, a place for off-worlders to hang out, have a drink, not feel so alone for a minute. The more time Alex spent at the bar the more she realized just how many humans hung around there too. Realized the kind of humans that hung around, the kind who were outcasts, who could relate. 

Humans like Maggie who could sympathize with having to hide who they were to survive. Alex never expected to feel so at home in this place but it fit. She started coming around even without Maggie. 

J’onn, before things played out with M’Gann had started going around too, then Kara and soon the others found their way here as well.

The place wormed it’s way into Alex’s heart, playing pool with Maggie and looking up to see Kara playing darts and happily chatting with some alien of a species she’d met in a lifetime before this one, finding alcohol that could actually get Kara drunk, being dragged into amateur band night, with her rusty drumming skills, Winn on the keyboard, James on guitar, Lucy on bass and Kara singing lead, having to talk Vasquez out of pyrotechnics for _amateur_ band night while her wife smiled fondly at their antics.

There was something so right about being with her family of strays in a place that seemed to carry its own sentience as it practically hummed with welcoming energy.

She can scarcely believe she’s standing in that same place, doesn’t want to believe it. In such a short amount of time this place had gotten under her skin but it had been Maggie’s for so long and Alex isn’t sure what to do. Isn’t sure what comfort she can offer.

She’s used to feeling inadequate but never useless. 

Alex is a soldier, she’s taken life in the heat of battle and seen civilian casualties in what amounts, technically to intergalactic war. It doesn’t ever get easier but this feels _different_ , heavier, more insidious.

Her survival training is warring with a creeping sense of sheer hopelessness and Maggie—

Alex has never seen Maggie’s face without so much as a hint of sparkle in her eyes, there’s always a glimmer of something there, amusement, pride, pain but now they’re just dull. It’s like staring into a void and Alex doesn’t know how to go about fixing it. 

Even as she knows fixing isn’t the right word, this can’t be fixed but she needs to do something. It’s just, she can’t seem to move, can’t seem to pull her eyes away from the anguish radiating off the woman who’s captured her heart. 

Eliza’s voice draws both of their attention, “We're fairly confident cause of death was a bioweapon, the device you saw should expound on that. I specialize in astrobiology, comparing other samples to the results from a surviving Daxamite’s bloodwork should give us some answers.” 

“A non-human survivor?” Alex can’t place the tone in Maggie’s voice. It’s scaring her more than she’d like to admit.

“Yeah, he um he was here when it— when it happened. He ran out after a Cadmus agent, they fought but it was too late. When he realized, he came to the D.E.O, told us. We have him under obser—"

“You’re saying you knew. You knew what happened and you didn’t call me?”

“Maggie that’s n—"

“Save it Alex. I called it in but I assume now that you’re here this no longer my jurisdiction.” Alex holds her hands up.

“Woah, Maggie no I mean the site does need to be quarantined, but you don’t have to... I promise we’re going to figure out its composition and how it spread, so we can synthesize a cure. So we can stop any more attacks or at least—” Alex’s voice is gentle and pleading. She barely manages to keep from reaching out for Maggie a second time, cognizant of detective’s need to not be touched just then.

She’s not expecting Maggie to spin around fire suddenly blazing in her eyes. She’s not prepared for the words Maggie spits or how Maggie refuses to look her in the eye. And she had absolutely no way of anticipating just how much seeing Maggie in such a state would cause her own heart to ache so viscerally. Not because of Maggie but _for_ her.

“You can’t cure death, Alex. And what all of sudden you care about their safety alien hunter.” Alex blinks at the venom so unlike anything she’s heard from Maggie before. Maggie refuses to so much as glance at Alex who looks stunned as if she’d been physically slapped. 

The walls were closing in on Maggie and if the D.E.O had the scene secured then she would cover ground elsewhere.

Alone. 

She smothered the tiny voice that cried out she’s better as part of a team now that she’d found the right partner.

Maggie had known as soon as she walked in, somewhere in the still functioning part of her brain that Cadmus was behind this. If the D.E.O was a boogeyman used as a cautionary tale warning those to err on the side of good, then Cadmus was the devil himself gleefully laughing as the world burned to ash. 

She’d find out who exactly did this if she had to rip apart National City with her bare hands in the process.

“I have to go. Call me if you find anything.” 

“Maggie wait—” Alex’s voice is just this side of desperate but Maggie was already gone.

Alex helplessly watches her go. She clenches her fists, breathes as the bite of her nails into flesh grounds her. 

Then she spins around mask firmly in place, every bit the agent she’s been trained to be. 

“We need those samples yesterday, get everything back to the D.E.O double time. Stopping Cadmus is top priority.” Alex leaves her mother to her own devices, falls into the muscle memory of barking orders, comfortable in the role of overseeing her team.

Alex pointedly ignores Eliza’s concerned gaze, feeling her mother’s eyes tracking her as she goes around gently closing the eyes of each alien after the crime scene has been properly documented. She doesn’t shrug off Eliza’s gentle hand on her shoulder when she’s finished. 

Across town, nothing feels exactly real for Maggie as she barrels into the station, making a beeline for her desk. She grabs whatever meager files she has on Cadmus that are strewn about from her going over them in her spare time. 

Then she heads down to her cliche of a converted utility closet. There's an old cork board she pulled from the basement, the department knowing better to throw anything away with constantly fluctuating budget cuts.

The white boards offer more in convenience but there's something about this relic, worn with age, heavy with the weight of past atrocities that seems to befit its current use.

There isn’t very much to be gleaned from what’s tacked up, transcripts of the few Cadmus viral videos, a dozen spotty surveillance photos, heavily redacted military files, results from a handful of dead-end computer traces and vague links between far, far too many unexplained deaths. 

The few pieces of alien tech they managed to salvage and not have confiscated by the 'FBI’ were fascinating to study but ultimately useless in tracking Cadmus down.

Not that she was supposed to be tracking Cadmus down, in fact, she was very much **not** supposed to be doing anything of the sort. 

Closets both literal and metaphorical were not high on Maggie’s list of preferred places to be but from the moment she had the name ‘Project Cadmus’ on her radar it was nothing but reams of highly classified government red tape which she was told in no uncertain terms to keep her nose out of and so here she stood.

In a damn closet, repurposed but still, a closet, surrounded by intel spanning well beyond the past year, long before Cadmus went public and declared war, even before Supergirl became National City’s hero, there were whisperings. 

There were always whisperings if you knew how to listen. 

And Maggie, Maggie knew how to listen.

The newly minted Science Division had yet to be commissioned and Maggie Sawyer, NCPD’s very own Fox Mulder transferred from Gotham had only a small desk shoved in a corner, covered in reports of ‘weird’ missing ‘persons’. 

‘Weird’ not alien, because somehow despite Superman’s very public existence, aliens plural and in their own backyard was really pushing the suspension of disbelief for the good people of National City.

Maggie, however, was quite well acquainted with the far more extensive off-worlder population than people realized resided in the city.

So she noticed when they started to go missing.

At first she thought it was the black-ops anti-alien strike-team she’d been hearing stories about but after some digging it seemed the shadowy organization was preoccupied with capturing escaped prisoners from a crashed Kryptonian ship, Fort Rozz, a maximum security prison housing some of the galaxies most dangerous individuals, if her intel was correct at any rate.

It usually was.

The aliens who were disappearing, for the most part, didn’t fit that profile, they didn’t fit any profile really except that they were alien. There didn’t seem to be repeat abductions of the same species and although they did appear to try to take those who wouldn’t be missed even among an already vulnerable population, taking someone with ties wasn’t a deal breaker. 

It was this lack of discernment that gave Maggie her first and only major break in the case.

She had no real leads until she caught a suicide the other cops wouldn’t go near.

She recognized the deceased immediately, Ibvash, her match Naesnzoar was one of the missing. 

Maggie had been tirelessly searching for any physical trail Naesnzoar’s captors may have left but there was nothing. All she had to go on were Ibvash’s dreams.

Telepathic capabilities were a marker of their species known as Venlians, who went through a special ceremony when they reached adulthood, at roughly 25 human years, where they discovered their ‘Psychmatch’. 

Maggie had asked Ibvash about the translation once wondering if it was supposed to be soulmate but there were supposedly nuanced differences in which Psychmatch was the closest English could come to their Venlian word. After the ceremony Psychmatches were neurally connected for the entirety of their lives, they could communicate through thought and often shared dreams. It was not uncommon for Venlians to pass along imagery through touch the ability not limited those neurally connected. 

Maggie met Ibvash and Naesnzoar at the alien bar that was practically her second home, an ion storm had crippled their ship light years away and they were picked up by a trading fleet and eventually ended up on earth with no way to return home. 

When Naesnzoar went missing Ibvash sought Maggie out for help because she wasn’t able to communicate with her match. Whoever took Naesnzoar seemed to be keeping her too drugged to properly reach out, even the dreams were hazy and mostly just a black void filled with fear and pain. 

It had been months of fruitless searching when Maggie got the call.

She arrived at the scene, recognizing Ibvash instantly and checking for a pulse out of habit.

When Maggie’s fingers touched skin she was seized with flashing images, shining metal, medical devices that looked like something out of a horror movie, military uniforms, other aliens strapped down being experimented on.

She saw the last few minutes of Naesnzoar’s life as she tried to escape stumbling through maze-like hallways, she ended up in an office like room crashing heavily into a set of filing cabinets. 

Trapped among overturned drawers, folders spilling out everywhere, the last image before everything goes black is the name Project Cadmus printed boldly across the nearest files. 

Maggie found a suicide note addressed to her. In it, Ibvash explains feeling her connection with Naesnzoar break upon her death and not being able to bear being alone on this planet without her psychmatch or hope of finding their way back home. 

Maggie took it upon herself to handle the small funeral arrangements. 

And then she turned her full attention to exposing Project Cadmus.

Which was significantly easier said than done considering all she had was second-hand first-hand knowledge of military torture and a name she should have no way of knowing. 

Project Cadmus was so highly classified it might as well not have existed and it seemed the harder she looked the further she got from any actual answers. Until her less than subtle poking around garnered unwanted attention in the form of a summons to her Captain’s office and an introduction, if you could call it that, to one General Sam Lane. 

It was common knowledge at the precinct that nothing good ever came from the Captain ordering you to close the door behind you but when there’s a General looming in the corner in full dress well nothing good seems like an understatement.

General Lane was everything Maggie Sawyer hated about people all rolled up into one vile power hungry old white guy package. He was condescending and rude as he dressed her down, not even bothering to veil the misogyny and racism dripping from the words directed at her.

In the future after Alex introduces her to Lucy Lane, Maggie is utterly baffled at how someone like _him_ could have had any part whatsoever in creating a woman like _her_.

General Lane’s tirade lasted around twenty minutes during which she was berated, threatened and ordered to surrender all of her case files for examination.

His complete avoidance of using the Project’s name was notable especially considering any information she had pertaining to Cadmus was confiscated, well whatever they were able to find anyway.

She was told in no uncertain to terms to stick to police matters and stay out of affairs that didn’t concern her. 

His visit, of course, had the exact opposite of its intended effect. She would have to be more careful but his visit only meant she had been getting close to something they didn’t want her to find. 

Then Supergirl came out and Maggie alongside the rest of the NCPD were struggling to help clean-up those early messes of an over-eager, undertrained superhero.

Supergirl began to find her groove and crime went down in National City but like in Metropolis with Superman, Supergirl’s notoriety seemed to bring all manner of weird out into the light. 

Who better to handle it than the resident go-to for weird and so Maggie was officially given her own X-Files in the form the Science Division.

The D.E.O. seemed to be more active than ever and sometimes it was difficult to figure out which non-existent anti-alien government agency was meant to be behind certain disappearances.

So Maggie kept her head down and her eyes open and she did her job. Anything possibly relating to Cadmus was added to her too small collection and pursued in her admittedly limited spare time.

It didn’t do great things for her social life but Maggie felt it was one of those bigger picture, greater good kinda deals. She tried to hold on to that whenever her girlfriend would yell at her for prioritizing work again over their relationship.

Connecting the name General Lane to Maxwell Lord while the new President talked a good game for alien rights was more than just mildly concerning but it also suggested to Maggie the government was shifting its stance on that particular project.

So when Cadmus went public with their flashy hacks and mission statement that didn’t even bother to pretend to be anything other than blatant propaganda, it was hardly a surprise.

A project rooted in military sanctioned xenophobia jumping to the private sector to become a fully fledged terrorist organization was hardly a stretch of the imagination.

Maggie would like to point out she saw that coming except now they’re all kind of busy dealing with the fallout of said terrorism.

The NCPD spends months chasing low-level criminals with high levels of destructive alien technology and dealing with the subsequent spike in hate crimes. The whole time Maggie felt it for the distraction it was. It made the lack of any leads all the more infuriating.

The attack on the bar feels like a test run and that makes her blood run cold. 

Maggie knows everything she could possibly know about Cadmus from the vantage point she’s at but there has got to be something here that she’s missed.

She almost had a name, before those three alien tech wielding but otherwise common thieves ready to make a deal inexplicably dropped dead at her feet during their transfer from holding.

Maggie sought solace in the bar that night, Darla keeping the drinks coming after Alex left, her confession adding to the confusing thoughts Maggie was trying to silence. Now Darla was just another casualty of Cadmus, the bar alongside her.

The guilt is starting to become oppressive and increasingly harder to shake off. It’s a struggle to ignore the traitorous whispers of _if only you were better, if you just worked a little harder, maybe they'd still be alive_. 

It’s making concentrating on what’s in front of her more of a challenge and disregarding the fact that she's been over these files enough times to recite them in her sleep is itself a lesson in self-control. 

It’s also something tangible to tether her because Maggie feels so utterly adrift.

She’s finding it difficult to pinpoint her own end goal.

Preventing any more casualties seems obvious but her mind keeps getting dragged back to the losses already suffered. 

So they stop Cadmus and then what, what does it mean. All that hate doesn’t just dissipate, she knows that from personal experience. It won’t erase the years of havoc already wreaked. It can’t bring back the sense of comfort found within those bar walls, can’t bring back the people they lost. 

So what is it she’s looking for. 

Redemption isn’t right, no matter what her intrusive subconscious has to say about it, she’s not actually responsible. Has no real sin to atone for in this messed up situation. 

Revenge, maybe. 

Maggie ponders that, if she had the chance to light a match and watch everything and everyone that Cadmus is burn would it bring her a sense of satisfaction? If she could find the person who planted the device in the bar, the person who ordered it, to begin with, would she take the opportunity to end them? 

Watch the life bleed from their eyes as they took their last breath, would she feel joy or sadness? Would she feel anything at all?

She already knows the answer, a fleeting part of her wishes for the desire to bathe in their blood. Craves a little bit of such ruthlessness to shield her from the injustices of the world but even the thought leaves her feeling empty. 

She wouldn’t shed a tear, wouldn’t lose any sleep at night if every last person involved in Cadmus ended up dead but the intimacy of retaliation isn’t quite what she’s seeking either. Doesn’t quite feel like her place even if she were to decide she wanted it.

Besides death seems too good, too easy for those bastards. 

Maggie figures if it’s not revenge, then avenging their deaths feels closer but still wrong somehow.

Maggie walks a fragile line, she’s a good cop but she’s all too aware of working within the confines of a broken system. She joined the force because she wanted to help people, be that someone in a position to make a difference. Someone who actually gave a damn about the outcasts of society.

There was a gay bar over an hour away from the sleepy town she grew up in, it was out of the way, hidden unless you knew what you were looking for. 

Fifteen-year-old Maggie would sneak out and ride all the way there on a piece of junk dirt bike she fixed up herself, pushing it miles down the road before she could risk riding without being heard. She couldn’t get in at first, had no way of getting her hands on a fake I.D. but it didn’t bother her. She hung around outside, talked to the drag queens on their smoke breaks, offered to carry the trash out to the bin for the workers, anything to not feel so alone for a minute. 

At sixteen she had worn them down and spent whatever Friday and Saturday night she could get away, surrounded by cheap strobe lights and other queers. In the hours inside the darkened bar bolstered by freedom of expression and camaraderie, the reclamation of the word tasted powerful instead of dangerous.

The bar was one of the only of it’s kind in the entire state and people from all over the area and quite a ways further sought it out. 

Maggie had known of more than a few who ended up dead or missing. 

It was the open disdain at best and non-action at worst she witnessed from the enforcers of the law that pushed Maggie on her career path.

When her parents threw her out at seventeen after Maggie told them she was a lesbian, she hopped a bus to Gotham and never looked back. Maggie got her GED and joined the GCPD determined to embody the ideals to protect and serve.

Maggie Sawyer believed in truth and justice and never stopped working hard to extend those ideas to people the system was actively working against.

Still, justice could be such a hollow ideal in the face of such senseless irreparable loss . 

But then what else was there, it seemed like a matter of semantics at this point. Her thoughts focusing too hard on parsing words, picking apart her very soul to just try and make sense of the nonsensical. When there was no why, no greater meaning beyond, life could be cruel and sometimes things just sucked.

Maggie supposed in the end, avenging their deaths wasn’t such a terrible goal after all and she would honor them by living as well.

There would be no true justice but Maggie vowed to see those responsible pay for their crimes.

There was also preventing Cadmus from adding to their body count, with a glance at the clock and renewed sense of purpose Maggie refocuses her attention.

The evidence scattered around seems to be mocking her and she’s not above bargaining with a god she doesn’t believe in to just give her something. 

She regrets storming out of the bar, maybe they were able to pull some prints off that device or make some kind of breakthrough on cause of death. 

Her fingers itch to call Alex for an update, but she remembers the words she threw as she left and can’t bring herself to hit send. She had gotten this far on her own—

A knock on the door interrupts her second guessing and she opens it to find a rookie clutching a small stack of papers, that she soon identifies as witness statements.

They’re mostly useless, more than half the witnesses they managed to round up were drunk and aside from the aligning descriptions of something gaseous filling the bar, which she’s sure Alex figured out after examining the device anyway there isn’t much there. 

The witness statement from Zoey, the bartender who called her catches her eyes. A rude man who didn’t order anything, kept his hood up and left in short order is so obvious Maggie doesn’t even need her detective senses to start tingling. 

She’s pouring over a sketch she found at the bottom of the pile, a man who looks like J’onn’s typical human form except for the metal covering half his face when her phone starts to ring. 

Maggie doesn’t get a chance to say anything as Alex’s voice comes in immediately over the open line. 

“Maggie get every available unit you have to L-Corp now.”

Maggie is up out of her chair before Alex even finishes saying her name.

“Cadmus is trying to get its hands on an element that they’ll use to wipe out the entire alien population in National City ” 

Well hell if Maggie knows what to do with that, it was one thing to figure they had something more nefarious up their sleeve it was entirely another to know they were planning and capable of just casually exterminating an entire demographic. 

“Just for the record Danvers _that_ is the type of bomb you apologize for dropping on someone. Is your team en route?”

Maggie rounds up the cavalry but doesn’t wait for them as they suit up in full tactical gear. She thinks about grabbing a tactical helmet at least, maybe some heavier firepower but her body has already auto-piloted her out the door. Her one concession is a brief stop at her cruiser on the way to her bike, pulling her bullet proof vest out of the trunk and tossing it on.

“Supergirl should already be there. NCPD is significantly closer to L-Corp than D.E.O headquarters and really I think it goes without saying that we’re on a bit of a time crunch.”

Maggie revs her engine in lieu of a response and hangs up not bothering with a helmet as she speeds off towards the nearby L-Corp building.

Maggie concentrates on the wind whipping through her hair, the pieces of stray gravel that fly up stinging her cheek. She focuses on physical sensation. The vibrations from her bike and the cold air in her lungs. 

The world is still a little rounded at the edges, a slight indefinable unease with reality and that is no headspace to be in if you want to come home from a raid.

She takes corners just a bit too hard, reveling in the extra control she needs to exert in order to keep from crashing.

Maggie can hear the sirens screaming not too far behind her, knows it’s for the best that they’re right on her tail. Waiting is something she has no intention of doing.

She dismounts her bike, taking a minute to orient herself with her surroundings. The walls of the L-Corp lobby are all glass and even in the dark Maggie can just make out the signs of the fight happening within. 

She pulls her hair back into a simple ponytail and checks that her service weapon is in order.

Maggie catches the hint of red and blue that is unmistakably Supergirl seconds before the flashing blue and red lights of the squad cars and vans pulling up tint everything those colors.

The fight inside does not appear to be going in Supergirl’s favor and Maggie doesn’t hesitate to give the order to move. She follows right behind the tactical team leader, when they enter Supergirl is pinned on the floor. 

They don’t hesitate to open fire.

Which is apparently an exercise in futility because it’s becoming readily apparent the girl of steel is not the only bullet-proof occupant in the room.

What Maggie wouldn’t give for Alex’s trusty Bazooka right about now.

Next thing she knows she’s staring at an honest to god wormhole. Maggie has seen seven seasons of Stargate-SG-1, her _Science_ division’s tagline is ‘we handle all cases involving aliens and things that go bump in the night. Okay, so maybe Maggie’s viewing choices had more to do with Samantha Carter then the science or the aliens but could you really blame a girl, that woman could rock the tactical gear and so what if nerd speak did it for her.

The point is Maggie has seen the Stargate activate enough times to know what the event horizon looks like and that weird glowing portal thing currently distracting everyone is clearly some kind of space-time tear or gateway.

Supergirl uses the moment to break her opponent’s hold on her reversing their positions so he’s the one now on the floor. 

Maggie turns her attention back from the freshly vanished portal just in time to catch her first full glimpse of the man’s face, half of which is metal. They lock eyes and Maggie barely has the time to make the connection between the sketch she was studying earlier and the man in front of her when there’s a bright flash of—

Maggie goes down hard not even remotely sure how she got there.

She wants to ask what the fuck it even is she got hit with but all that comes out of her mouth is a groan.

The pain is white-hot and searing and fuck she can’t feel her arm. That brings a wave of panicky thoughts along the lines of, oh god did I just get my arm lasered off and It couldn’t have just been a regular freakin’ bullet because of course not.

Her thoughts continue to meander landing somewhere between her usual snark and gallows humor. 

Life imitates art so naturally leave it to the lesbian to get shot. 

It’s not even like it would be the first time she’s _been_ shot. She’s taken more bullets to kevlar than a person should probably be comfortable with. A few broken ribs, some spectacular bruising and once most notably, a ruptured spleen. And okay yeah the ruptured spleen wasn’t great and required surgery but the other half a dozen times she dusted herself off, requisitioned a new vest and self-medicated with whiskey.

Whatever she got hit with this time though has gone clear through her vest. She can feel her blood pooling underneath her which really isn’t doing much for her concern about still having an arm. 

Maggie is slowly trying to process and things are a bit swimmy but she’s pretty sure it was a laser of some kind that nailed her so shouldn’t it stand to reason the wound would have cauterized itself or something.

She doesn't really have time to ponder it for long though, there are black spots dancing across her vision until suddenly it’s filled with blonde and red and blue, a voice frantically calling out her name and wait—

Since when was she on a first name basis with Supergirl. 

Maggie’s thinking maybe she’s hallucinating just a bit because Supergirl ran over to her mid-fight completely ignoring their perp and is now looking at her with far more concern than is reasonably expected from a near stranger, even one who’s a bonafide hero. Maybe she really is missing an arm.

“Just get the bastard.” Talking probably shouldn’t be that difficult but Maggie refuses to let a flesh wound doom the entire alien population of National City. And it’s maybe starting to unnerve her just a bit that Supergirl is honest to god fussing over her.

Seriously, there are hands skimming over her body and slightly pulling on her vest to check the wound. Maggie is about eighty percent sure Supergirl was about to hold her hand before Maggie’s plea distracted her. 

Supergirl leans out of Maggie’s line of vision presumably to check on the status of said bastard. 

Maggie stares at the ceiling and when it disappears she can’t tell if she’s closed her eyes or if her vision is just fading in and out. She feels Supergirl’s hand land firmly her on her arm, it’s the injured side and Maggie is just ridiculously relieved it’s still attached to her body. 

“He’s already gone and you need medical attention.” Maggie tries to lift her head, she really does but quickly decides that it’s too much effort. She still makes a valiant protest, its effect somewhat diminished in her prone position.

“I’m fine, just gotta walk it off. You need to go after him.” Supergirl does not look impressed or even remotely reassured. 

“He didn’t get what he came here for. It’s fine for now.” 

Then Supergirl mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “besides Alex would murder me.” 

Maggie figures she imagined that too. 

Supergirl scoops her up bridal style careful not to jostle her injured shoulder, encouraging her to hang on with her good arm. 

“Ya know I usually like a lady to at least buy me a drink before picking me up.”

Supergirl looks down at her with this bizarre mix of fury and fondness that Maggie isn’t sure she’d know how to interpret let alone know what to do with even if she had all her wits about her.

Any contemplation about the look is promptly knocked from her head because suddenly they’re flying.

And Maggie’s mind goes completely and utterly blank.

Cadmus, the alien bar, her blood slowly staining Supergirl’s suit, the loss, and the memories and the fear and the fight, everything just slips away. 

Until there’s nothing but the wind rushing against her face, colder than on her bike, quieter too. She can see the stars so clearly from up here without the light pollution, she doesn’t think she ever quite appreciated that enough back in Nebraska.

She feels weightless and connected to the universe and she wants to ask Supergirl if they can do this again sometime so she knows if this is what soaring feels like or what dying does. 

What actually comes out of her mouth is an ever eloquent and slightly irreverent, “Holy shiiit.” 

And Supergirl, Supergirl snorts, actually snorts at her before asking, “ You all right there, Detective Sawyer.”

Maggie doesn’t get a chance to respond though because they’ve landed on the balcony of the D.E.O headquarters and the firm landing knocks her shoulder just enough that she lets out an involuntary hiss of pain.

Supergirl mutters a quiet, "Sorry," as she hurries down the stairs.

Maggie hears Alex’s voice before she sees her and if she can’t quite keep a smile from breaking out at the sound she can always blame it on blood loss induced delirium. 

“Maggie?! Oh my god what happened?”

“She got shot in the shoulder, Henshaw has some kind of eye laser beam thing but she’s been bleeding a lot which I don’t, I mean my—

“He has cybernetic implants, an ocular laser would have different properties from your heat vision. Here we can use my lab, we have to stop the bleeding. Does she have any internal damage? A blast like that could do major damage to the surrounding tissue and arteries.” 

Maggie feels herself being placed on a gurney, she already feels a bit better with something solid beneath her that isn’t the ground. Alex’s voice is strong, in control, it’s her agent voice but Maggie can see the worry in her eyes, feel the slightest tremor in her hand. 

Maggie hates causing Alex any amount of distress so she chimes in before Supergirl gets a chance to answer, “I’m fine Danvers, tis but a scratch.”

Alex’s eyes cut sharply to stare at Maggie in disbelief. Her eyes narrow but Maggie can see her fighting the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. Maggie grins when she sees it and Alex looks away but her own small smile breaks free and Maggie decides she is feeling better indeed. 

“You do realize that line’s claim to fame is the irony that he’s missing an arm right?” 

Alex shakes her head, looking over to Kara who signals that there is in fact, no internal damage, the bulletproof vest dispersing enough of the energy that the wound isn’t as serious as the bleeding would suggest. 

“Well, truth be told I spent a good few minutes concerned that was actually the case.” Alex’s eyes soften and Maggie feels Alex's hand rest lightly on her uninjured shoulder for just a minute.

“Supergirl could you take care of the—" Alex gestures to the kevlar Maggie is still wearing. Kara rips the Kevlar at the shoulder joints a bit too enthusiastically as Maggie’s shirt goes right along with it.

Supergirl squeaks and starts stuttering through apologies, hands flapping and eyes never leaving the ceiling. Maggie’s just glad the fabric wasn’t stuck to the wound, she imagines that would’ve hurt like a bitch. 

After Alex assures _Supergirl_ and Maggie doesn’t think she imagined the emphasis on the name or the irritated glare directed at the superhero, that everything was under control Supergirl takes her leave. She also stammers a bit more while excusing herself and bumps into the wall on the way out. 

Alex rolls her eyes but then she catches sight of Maggie and her breath catches, for none of the reasons Alex has thought about in scenarios that involved Maggie without her shirt on.

Maggie for her part can only bite back a laugh, wholly unconcerned about sitting around a top secret government agency surrounded by agents, aliens, her friend that she can’t imagine her life without and a superhero, wearing just her bra. 

Alex must see something in her eyes because her voice cracks ever so slightly when she says, “I swear to god Maggie if you make a joke right now.” She’s not blinking, eyes riveted to the blood covering Maggie’s torso.

Maggie’s attention is pulled from the haunted look in Alex’s eyes as she registers pressure on her shoulder. She finds the same tall blonde woman who identified herself as an astrobiologist earlier hovering over her. The woman gives her a kind smile before turning her attention to Alex.

“It looks like the bleeding’s stopped. Alex, sweetheart do you need me to—"

Alex remains frozen staring at the darkening red, stark against Maggie’s skin. 

She eventually finds her voice and when she cuts Eliza off, this time it doesn’t crack, “No, I’m okay to do this, you should go find out if Supergirl secured the isotope.” 

Alex has moved closer producing a vial from somewhere and holding it up for Maggie to see, “For the pain.” She waits until Maggie nods before smoothly injecting her, moving closer to gently probe the wound.

She looks at Eliza, “It looks worse than it is, I did go to med school I can handle a few sutures.”

Eliza hesitates but Alex had snapped out of whatever daze she was in already moving towards the supply closet. 

“Really mmm—Dr. D...Eliza I got this, Supergirl and J'onn need you right now.” Alex spins around changing her trajectory to busy herself at the sink, filling a water basin, scrubbing her hands. Anything to hide the bright red mess her cheeks have become while praying Maggie was too out of it to detect the reason for her awkward name mangling. 

Alex pretends not to hear her mom’s quiet chuckles as Eliza exits the room. 

It’s not that she doesn’t want to introduce Maggie to Eliza. It’s just now Eliza _knows_ about Maggie, even though Alex explained they were just doing the whole friends thing. And official introductions over a rather personal crime scene or half-naked covered in blood hardly seemed appropriate. Alex figures third time's the charm and hopes Maggie won’t be too upset with her.

Maggie meanwhile, watches Alex move confidently around the room assembling supplies, clearly in her element. It amazes Maggie, how effortlessly Alex can transition from badass to complete nerd. She’s seen Alex equally comfortable with taking down an alien twice her size as she is discussing and dissecting said alien’s physiology. It hardly seems fair, Maggie thinks how close to perfect Alex actually is even if it is ridiculously attractive. 

Whatever drugs they’ve given her must be kicking in for those thoughts to be given such free reign and maybe she is starting to feel kinda floaty. It’s not the same weightless nothingness from earlier either. It’s warm and cozy and it’s making everything soften at the edges. 

It’s nice, in the sense that the pain from knowing a bunch of her friends are dead seems to be dulled right alongside the physical pain in her shoulder .

The thought makes Maggie flinch and she hears Alex say,“Sorry, you okay?” It’s then she realizes Alex has not only removed the blood, which her traitorous brain deems unfortunate she was zoned out for that but actually moved on to patching her up. Maggie looks down and sees Alex’s skillful fingers making quick work of the stitches. She finds herself mesmerized and oh no that won’t do, that won’t do at all.

“Oh, I’m okay," Maggie curses the way her voice goes all gravely, tries to correct the tone and falls back on snark to deflect. "just a little nervous you’re not very good at this.” And really she needs to stop looking at Alex’s hands, needs to stop thinking about how they would feel on her skin without the gloves between them. 

“Oh, well clearly the drugs have kicked in because you...are... done.” 

Maggie is thinking god Alex is gorgeous but she says, “Thank you.” Her voice too high in trying to overcompensate for her earlier timbre. She says thank you and no doubt Alex takes it literally, takes it to mean thanks for stitching me up. Maggie wishes she were better with words. Better at saying the right things at the right times instead of always seeming to get her intent all muddled. 

She struggles to get her words to properly convey what she means. Maggie wants to say thank you for taking care of me, for caring about me. Thank you for not cutting me out of your life. Thank you for being here. Thank you for—

“No. Thank you.” Alex’s voice cuts off Maggie's inner-monologue and wait that’s not at all how this script is supposed to go. Maggie wracks her brain trying to figure out what it is Alex could possibly be thanking her for. She’s coming up woefully blank. Maggie shifts her entire body as if doing so will physically nudge her brain into coming up with an answer. 

“For what?” Maggie shrugs her shoulders, feeling the slight pull on the skin around her wound, best to get the explanation straight from the source.

“Well, I told my mom.” The sigh Alex lets escape is relief, Maggie is pretty sure, even though Alex’s back is turned and she can’t see her face. 

Still, Maggie can’t help the prickle of fear, of sadness, of anger that wells up in her drug addled mind. She knows she’s going to need to tell Alex at some point that pretty good is not in fact how her own parents took her coming out but this is Alex’s moment. Besides Maggie refuses to cry in the middle of a room with glass walls which if she doesn’t grab a hold of herself is how this cocktail of stress,drugs, grief and near death experience is going to play out.

“You did? How did she take it?” Maggie finds a genuine smile overtaking her face even as her eyebrows raise because Alex never stops surprising her. She hadn’t expected Alex would come out to her mom so quickly. The pieces she’d put together in the short time she’d known Alex painted a picture of a rocky relationship of high parental expectation that had been slowly improving over the last year but could still be difficult at times.

Maggie hadn’t been sure where Alex stood on her journey of gay discovery after that speech in the car park, another unexpected turn of events. They had drifted back into a tentative friendship at first before falling rather seamlessly back into their easy banter. It was almost like the kiss never happened except for the fact neither of them could quite forget it.

Maggie’s mind strays to the kiss then, solid and sure and so smooth that Maggie forgot herself for a second. Forgot that she’d just been dumped, forgot that Alex was still figuring things out. Alex kissed like she knew what she wanted and what she wanted was Maggie. And that had scared the hell out of her. 

When Alex says, “Better than me.” Maggies releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

She revels in Alex’s small laugh, it’s so utterly Alex to make self-deprecation look adorable. Maggie finds herself laughing right along, her chest suffusing with warmth so much so that she finds herself looking down to check she hasn’t popped any stitches and reincited the bleeding.

Alex moves closer, and Maggie senses she’s about to be on the receiving end of yet another Alex Danvers speech special, almost guaranteed to turn Maggie’s life upside down. 

Of course, Maggie isn’t sure how she’s supposed to listen when one twitch would bring her fingers directly into contact with Alex’s thigh, she gives it her best shot.

In the end Maggie has to redouble her commitment to not crying in rooms with glass walls because she is just so damn happy for Alex. In fact she’s pretty sure she should be embarrassed at the grin that overtakes her face just because Alex Danvers casually said the word gay.

Maggie tries not to dwell on how Alex says, “I mean how would I _not_ like you.” As if liking her were a foregone conclusion, as if she could genuinely not imagine anyone disliking Maggie. 

It’s sweet, Maggie’s heart whispers kicking the cynical part of her brain that argues it’s delusional. 

Maggie focuses instead on the matter of fact way Alex affirms her new normal and basks in the quiet joy Alex is radiating. 

There’s a serenity in Alex’s entire being when she says, “I finally get me” that calls to Maggie.

She can remember so vividly her own moment, when she felt that click as her universe slid into place and things just made sense. It’s forever ingrained, stopping dead in her tracks on the way to class as it hit her out of the blue that the butterflies in her stomach and the tightening in her chest when she caught sight of the pastor’s daughter was a _crush_. Maggie realized at thirteen and she looks back and knows she would’ve figured it out even sooner if she was aware liking girls was even an option.

She wonders how many of those moments Alex has accumulated after twenty-seven years, wonders what her unequivocal click moment ended up being. 

Maggie is in awe of Alex because she cycled through gay panic, denial, realization, telling her family, first recognized feelings, heartbreak, self-acceptance and managed to land on happy in mere weeks. Not just accepting of her newly discovered sexuality but genuinely happy about it.  
.  
And when Alex says, “And now I realize it wasn’t about you, but it’s about me living my life.” Maggie wants to jump up and down in some uncoordinated attempt at a touchdown dance. 

Maggie finds herself floundering, her commitment to being just Alex’s friend wavering because Alex is saying everything Maggie needs to hear without even knowing it. 

Maggie expected months of Alex slowly coming to terms with things, she’d convinced herself she’d be fine watching Alex date, experiencing this new and shiny world she’d found herself in, and then maybe if the timing was ever right they could make a real go of it. 

But Alex hasn’t just accelerated Maggie’s expected timeline she’s pretty much obliterated it and all Maggie can really do at this point is gaze adoringly at her. 

That and try to ignore how Alex’s newfound surety is doing very little to help control the impulse to bury her fingers in Alex’s hair and kiss her senseless. 

And Alex is probably waiting for her to say something. 

Maggie goes with,“Anytime.” and curses again her shit way with unprepared words. 

Maggie watches Alex and knows there’s some pathetic sappy look on her face but she can’t really bring herself to actually do anything about it. She’s a little disgusted with herself honestly because Maggie’s kinda realized she’d be ecstatic to simply hold Alex’s hand for the rest of their lives if Alex would let her.

Maggie watches Alex and hears her Abuela in her head telling her, _Creo que es valiente intentar ser feliz_. Maggie’s pretty sure Abuela knew she was a lesbian and loved her anyway even though she passed before Maggie could officially tell her. Maggie likes to imagine that maybe if she’d still been around when Maggie came out she’d have prevented her parents from disowning her. 

Abuela would’ve loved Alex, Maggie thinks.

Maggie watches Alex and it would be so easy to reach out and tangle their hands together. One soft tug to pull her down and kiss her until they both run out of air. Alex soft and solid and perfectly molded against h—

A sharp beeping startles Maggie out of her daydream. Followed by a male voice calling out for Agent Danvers from the corner of the room which shit has he been in here the entire time...

Alex walks over and Maggie closes her eyes allowing herself to drift off to the sound of Alex discussing the molecular breakdown of something called Medusa.

Maggie isn’t sure how much time has passed when her surroundings start to filter back in. She becomes aware of the sharp pain in her shoulder first but before she can decide the best way of expressing her displeasure about it, she feels cool fingers gently brushing across her brow.

Maggie cracks one eye open and is struck dumb by the unguarded look of affection in Alex’s eyes. It takes a moment before Alex registers that Maggie is looking back at her and when it does Alex pulls back so fast that she bumps into the stool behind her, getting her legs tangled and falling over in an ungraceful heap taking a stack of paper and several plastic models with her. 

“I’m good, I’m fine,” Alex claims in a rather strangled voice as she jumps up trying to play it cool and falling a few degrees short of boiling instead. 

Maggie bursts into laughter and fuuu— that hurts. She lets out a groan but can’t keep the amusement out of her voice when she says, “It’s not fair if laughing hurts me more than falling on your ass hurts you, Danvers.” 

It flips a switch and suddenly Alex is at her side fretting, checking her stitches and her pulse. Maggie grabs Alex’s hands before she can shine a penlight in her eyes.

“Alex, hey look at me I’m fine, promise.” Alex settles and it takes Maggie a while to notice that they’re just sort of deeply gazing into each other’s eyes.

She clears her throat and hopes it’s not as awkwardly as it felt, “So I miss anything good?”

Clearly, it was exactly the right thing to say to break the moment because Alex shakes her head ruefully before sighing, “Not really, you’ve only been out for an hour or two.”

“Uhuh so do I get some expansion on Cadmus’ doomsday plot or is that classified?” 

“Oh right um cliff notes? Cadmus kidnapped Supergirl last week and stole her blood which they then used to gain access to a virus of Kryptonian origin capable of wiping out all alien forms of life. Lillian Luthor was able to re-engineer the virus to be harmless to humans while still killing anything else non Kryptonian.They plan on releasing it onto National City’s populace, then probably the world but they need an element made exclusively at L-Corp. We weren’t able to secure the isotope but we’ve been monitoring it while trying to engineer a cure….. And that’s what you missed on glee.”

Maggie raises an eyebrow temporarily distracted as Alex cringes, “Sorry Kara is making us binge watch glee on sister movie night, something about lesbian cheerleaders.” 

Maggie chuckles, “That’s actually really cute.” Alex makes a face at her and Maggie thinks she’s going to deny it but she just ends up shaking her head. 

They fall into silence, Alex having pulled over a stool to sit next to Maggie while resuming her work on a tablet. 

Soon Maggie’s thoughts are all crashing together Lillian Luthor was behind Cadmus and Cadmus was behind- 

Maggie can hear the crunch of glass under foot, breathe the heaviness in the air, can taste bile in her mouth. Maggie grips the edges of smooth metal for dear life feeling only rough cement under her palms and cold, hard floor on her knees, willing the room not spin. The bar’s low lighting and neon splashes normally comforting, instead haunting and garish. Faces, so many faces, twenty-one names, Darla, twenty-three faces, Ibvash, how many more being experimented on, Naesnzoar, forty-seven unseeing eyes, Zalra, Maggie’s palm sticks to the floor next to Darla’s head, Alex’s voice...

Alex.

Maggie’s breathing slows.

An open stretch of highway, nothing but the vibrations from the bike underneath and the stars overhead.

Maggie’s fingers unclench.

 _Santa María, Madre de Dios,ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte_. Abuela murmuring the rosary, the beads slide through her hands as she tried to teach tiny Maggie to do the same.

Maggie’s heart stops racing. 

Alex’s fingers intertwined with her own, Alex’s look of wonder. 

Maggie opens her eyes not sure when they slipped closed. 

She glances over at Alex checking something in a microscope across the room. Maggie thinks of Alex’s face as Maggie spared one glance over her shoulder when fleeing the bar earlier. So many gone but Alex was here. Maggie had tried pushing her away but it seemed Alex hadn’t really budged at all. 

“Hey, Alex?” 

Alex looks up at the slight tremor in Maggie’s voice, concern marring her features as she hurries over, “What’s wrong is it your shoulder? I can—"

“It’s not my shoulder. I uh,” Maggie blows out an uneasy breath, “ I’m sorry.” 

Alex shakes her head in confusion, “I don’t—"

“At the…” Maggie swallows hard, “At the bar earlier I’m sorry I snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Maggie, it’s fine you don’t have to apologize. God, it was so hard for me to be there, I can’t even imagine how...fuck how bad it was—is for you.”

Without the distraction of work or the softened atmosphere from the drugs, Maggie struggles to keep her emotions from spilling out in a jumbled mess. She can see Alex fidgeting out of the corner of her eye, clearly wanting to reach out but refraining. It nearly makes Maggie burst into the tears she’s been dutifully keeping at bay. She’s never had someone so attuned to something as simple as when she needs not to be touched. It’s a herculean effort but Maggie manages to scrape together some semblance of composure to power through.

“Yeah, well it’s still not an excuse, I lashed out and I shouldn’t have taken out...things on you, so just let me apologize, huh Danvers?” 

“Fine then apology accepted Sawyer. Do you uh I mean do you wanna talk about it?”

“I—" Maggie can’t quite choke out any words, shaking her head in the negative a little too emphatically. 

Alex looks panicked for a split second before blurting out, “I hit on my first-grade teacher without knowing it!” 

Maggie blinks sufficiently startled and amused despite herself. She tilts her head silently encouraging Alex to elaborate.

Alex’s can feel the heat rising on her cheeks but she gamely continues, “We were six, so Valentine's Day meant those stupid little cards for the whole class, I think my mom bought me Scooby-Doo ones, anyway I decided that wasn’t special enough for Miss Balsamo so I made her a huge construction cut out heart, with a drawing of me fighting a dragon to save her.”

Maggie can’t help but snort, “You didn’t.”

“Oh no, I assure you I did.” Alex leans closer and lowers her voice in mock seriousness, “I even used the good glitter.”

Then Alex leans back with a crooked grin turning her attention back to her tablet and allowing Maggie the illusion of privacy in which to pull herself together a bit more.

Maggie feels her heart swell in affection at Alex’s deft diffusion of the emotional landmine. She also takes that as her cue to get the hell out of dodge before she does something stupid like profess her undying love for a woman she met less than three months ago, has since turned down romantically and then all but begged for her friendship. 

“So do you have an extra shirt around here I could borrow?” Maggie asked picking at the blanket, she realized Alex must have thrown over her at some point while she slept. 

Alex’s brow furrowed, “Why do you need a shirt?”

Maggie smirks, “ I mean if ya got it flaunt it which I’m happy to do, I just figured the D.E.O had some kind of dress code.” 

Maggie tries to swing her legs around to properly sit up on the edge of the gurney, leaning on her elbows for support. She hisses as the weight settles on her injured shoulder and Alex is at her side in an instant guiding her until it doesn’t seem like she’ll topple over.

“Woah there Maggie, what’re you doing?”

“I thought that was pretty obvious Danvers, I’m leaving.”

“You are not going anywhere, you’ve been shot essentially and you’re due some more painkillers you should rest. I can take you home later.”

“I’ll be fine Danvers.”

“Maggie this isn’t up for discussion.”

“Alex, I _can’t_ stay here.”

“What are you talking about, of course, you can.”

“That isn’t what I...I mean—” Maggie heaves out a frustrated sigh, “It’s just I’ve been trying to track Cadmus longer than you probably have and I’ve gotten next to nowhere. And if there’s anyone I trust to take Cadmus down it’s you guys but I can’t...I can’t just sit on the sidelines and wait for it all to play out, all right. I need to do _something_.”

“Okay.”

Maggie eyes Alex skeptically, “Wait really, you’re not gunna keep arguing I stay put?”

“C’mon, Sawyer.Trust me if anyone understands not being able to sit by when the people we care about are in danger it’s me. I don’t usually spend these kinds of situations submerged in the science,” Alex shrugs, “ but drastic times... That said there’s no way I’m letting you run off half-cocked especially while injured so is there a specific _something_ that you had in mind?”

Maggie sighs, digging out a folded up piece of paper from the pocket of her jeans. “You got a pen?”

Alex’s eyebrow quirks as she wordlessly passes Maggie a pen. Maggie smooths out the paper and Alex doesn’t mention how Maggie’s hand shakes as she as she makes marks across the page. 

When she’s finished Maggie hands the sheet of paper to Alex who looks it over with a furrowed brow. A few seconds later Maggie hears Alex’s inhale of comprehension.

“The ones I marked, elven out of the twenty-three, they have people who would….. I figured the least I could do was go make the notifications.”

Alex nods almost absentmindedly her face deep in concentration. She opens her mouth to speak but closes it a second later before taking a deep breath and tying again. “We uhm we have all the-they’re here in our morgue. If you want I could have them transferred to the coroner's office? So their people can claim them.”

“That'd be…yeah. Thank you.” Maggie swallows hard, mentally scrambling to shore up her rapidly crumbling defenses.

“Okay….okay I should…. go do that.” Alex doesn’t move, though, Maggie can feel her staring, can feel the weight of whatever Alex wants to ask physically between them.

“You don’t have to— it’s just— Alex runs a hand through her hair, “ I didn’t see anything next to Darla’s name.”

Maggie bites down hard feeling her jaw clench, she clears her throat a few times before being able to speak, “I was just going to...there’s no...she does—didn’t have anyone besides….”

The me goes unspoken.

“I need—bathroom.” Maggie pulls the blanket tight around her shoulders like it’s the only thing holding her together as she’s flees from Alex for the second time in one day. If she isn’t careful, she thinks bitterly she’ll break Alex’s record before the night is over.

When Maggie comes back Alex is gone but there’s a tactical shirt in Maggie’s size and a leather jacket Maggie immediately recognizes as one of Alex’s own.

Maggie slips it on relishing the weight as it settles on her shoulders, it does more for fortifying her armor than Maggie has any intention of analyzing at the moment.

Maggie is on her way out when she catches sight of Supergirl sitting on the balcony ledge with her shoulders slumped. Maggie hesitates for a second but finds herself walking towards the dejected Superhero.

“Uh, Supergirl?” Kara jumps up, awkwardly hovering above the ledge half-sitting before she regains her composure drawing herself to full height mid-air and staying there.

“Oh, Detective Sawyer, can I help you with something? Wait, you’re injured. What are you doing up? Does Al—Agent Danvers know?”

Maggie notices the abrupt correction from Alex to Agent Danvers it feels important, Maggie knows they’re close so why….but there’s so much going on and Maggie just lets it go. 

“I’m heading out. The shoulder’s doin’ alright and Alex knows but um look I know you don’t know me very well but you saved my life and you look a little...I mean are you okay?”

Supergirl places her hands on her hips in her classic power pose while she studies Maggie clearly trying to decipher the detective's intentions. Maggie stares back honest and open, she may be a mess herself but that’s no reason she can’t lend an ear especially if Supergirl of all people needs one. And if it distances her focus from her own problems for awhile it’s an added bonus. 

Supergirl floats back down to her perch on the ledge facing the twinkling lights of the city.

“My father was the one responsible for creating the Medusa virus, back on Krypton.”

“That’s heavy.” is all Maggie says, hopping up and settling down on the ledge feet dangling in the air miles above the ground.

“Maybe you shouldn’t—

“What, you gunna to let me fall?”

“Well no but—

“So what is it that’s really bothering you?”

“You mean the fact the entire alien population in National City could die because of me isn’t enough.”

“That’s plenty just —

“Wait you aren’t planning on telling me it’s not my fault?” Supergirl asks the detective a bit incredulously.

“I mean it isn't your fault, obviously but I figure people whose opinions matter a hell of a lot more than mine have already told ya that. Besides it's not like I really have room to talk since I'm sitting over here blaming myself.”

Supergirl’s entire face scrunches, “How could _you_ possibly be responsible for any of this”

“I’ve been hunting Cadmus for over two years, if I'd been able to catch them….maybe... or even... from just reading the witness statements there was that guy, who turned out to be the Cadmus agent, he wasn’t exactly being subtle, if I'd been in the bar maybe I could've stopped it.”

“That's crazy, I wasn't able to take down Hank and I’m Supergirl. He would've just killed you too.”

Maggie nods giving the hero a small pained smile, “Guilt...logic don’t always share a wavelength, ya know. Anyhow just seemed like maybe something other than self-blame and impending doom getting you down.”

“How could you possibly—I mean what makes you think that detective.”

Truthfully Maggie just didn't believe Supergirl was the type of person wallow in guilt in the middle of a crisis. Supergirl struck her as more of a find something to punch until it resolves the crisis kind of girl. She was still a girl though, still a person and Maggie figured it was something more personal that had her out here looking like a kicked puppy. 

Of course, Supergirl’s reaction definitely confirmed her vague considerations that something was up. 

“Call it a hunch.” Maggie watches as Supergirl absentmindedly picks tiny pieces of cement out of the ledge crumbling them to dust.

After a few quiet minutes, she speaks, “My friend is dying. My friend is dying and he kissed me and my guy friends always seem to try and kiss me even when I don’t want them to but the people I want to kiss don’t try, even when they look at me like they want to kiss me and then even sometimes when they do it still doesn’t _work_ …. Also, Lena Luthor shouldn’t have to keep paying the price for her family’s evil choices.”

Maggie blinks trying to process that avalanche of ambiguous wording. She can’t help but notice just how young Supergirl looks in that moment. The weight of her new world resting on shoulders already heavy with the death of her old one and still she really is just a girl in the end. Something about that comforts Maggie where it would concern so many others. 

“Okay I followed right up until the end there I think” Maggie’s going to treat that last sentence as a non-sequitur and not read into any sort of implication that Supergirl might want Lena Luthor to kiss her. “And you don’t owe anyone anything just because they have feelings for you.”

Maggie sees something flash in Supergirl’s eyes as all traces of uncertainty and vulnerability fade. Maggie is suddenly acutely aware that this girl could literally throw her into space if she felt so inclined.

“So you’re saying other people’s feelings don’t matter?” Supergirl demands.

“That is not at all what I said.”Maggie starts to protest confused by the abrupt shift in atmosphere but Supergirl doesn’t seem to hear her as she barrels on.

“You think you can just lead people on and f—mess with their heads and it doesn’t matter if you hurt them as long you get what you want. “ The other shoe drops in the middle of Supergirl’s tirade and oh this is about Alex now. 

Maggie breaths in deeply through her nose trying to figure out the best way to get the irate superhero to not just outright dismiss any forthcoming words.

“Do you think you could actually try and listen to what I’m going to say?” Supergirl has her arms folded across her chest and her jaw clenched but she nods looking for all the world like she wants to set Maggie’s hair on fire.

“No one is _entitled_ to a relationship just because they develop feelings for someone. That’s it. Full stop.” 

There was a clear war playing across Supergirl’s face between rational thinking and emotion.

Maggie persevered, “ I think your read on what happened between me and Alex is wrong but at the risk of sounding like the asshole you clearly think I am, I don’t really feel like it’s any of your business.” 

Supergirl looked affronted by this but didn’t interrupt. 

“You aren’t obligated to date your friend just because he’s into you or because he’s dying just like I didn’t owe Alex anything more than friendship just because she had what I thought was a crush on me…that wouldn’t be fair to any of us.” 

Supergirl seems to deflate in face of Maggie’s calm, straightforward demeanor. 

“I’m sorry Detective Sawyer that was out line, Alex is…important to me. I don’t like seeing her hurt”

“Well for what it’s worth neither do I.” They spend a moment mulling over the exchange in companionable silence before Supergirl breaks it.

“So how did you manage to convince Alex to let you leave after being shot?”

“She gets that there's nothing for me to do here and I…knew most of the aliens who were in the bar tonight, some of them have family, friends...people who will miss them, who need to know... I figured it was the least I could do.”

Supergirl stares and Maggie doesn’t feel like she deserves the compassion in her gaze. 

“I should get going I still need to hail a cab to get back to my bike.”

“Oh um” and suddenly Supergirl looks kind of sheepish, “Your bike’s downstairs.”

Maggie tilts her head quizzically. “When did—How—”

“After I brought you back here, I needed to go speak with Lena again.” Maggie quietly tilted her head sensing there was more Supergirl wanted to say.

“I think I messed up, I’ve gotten to know Lena and this morning I looked into her eyes and she didn’t know anything about Cadmus’ plans or her mother’s involvement. I let everyone else talk me into going back. They asked me if I would stake my friend's life on Lena’s innocence, and I would, I trust her but that seemed like the wrong answer so I went and confronted her, she seemed so hurt…”

Supergirl went quiet for long enough Maggie wondered if she would continue or stay lost in her thoughts. When she spoke again Maggie realized Supergirl had no intention of continuing her earlier train of thought out loud. Maggie could only hope verbalizing what was on her mind helped somewhat since she clearly wasn’t expecting any commentary from Maggie herself. Not that Maggie had any really.

“Anyway, Alex mentioned you had Triumph Bonneville T-100 and there was one parked kinda haphazardly outside L-Corp, one of the officers on duty confirmed it was yours so I just sort of-” Supergirl makes a flying motion with her hand.

Maggie was still stuck on the fact that Alex had apparently told Supergirl what kind of bike she drove. Possibly more than once depending on Supergirl's memory and accuracy with which she rattled off Maggie's bike's model. She wasn’t sure where to start with Supergirl taking it upon herself to bring it to the D.E.O. either. It looked like this day would just keep on getting more and more surreal.

“I guess I owe you a thank you then.” 

“Not a problem detective.” Supergirl looks a bit amused and Maggie figures there’s a dazed look on her face to match her thoughts, it was so time for her to leave.

“Right well I should get going. See you around Supergirl.”

Maggie walks out of the D.E.O and sure enough, there’s her Triumph parked in the spot next to Alex’s Ducati. Maggie growls and all but stomps to her bike refusing to acknowledge any stupid sentimental thoughts about their fucking motorcycles looking good next to each other.

She digs her keys out of her jeans’ pocket somewhat surprised they’re still there after everything.

Maggie can’t help but do a thorough check-over once she reaches her bike, wondering if Supergirl might’ve forgotten her strength just a little bit in delivering Maggie’s precious baby. Nothing looks out of place and Maggie doesn’t even try to play off her relief.

She mounts her bike, exhausted already before even trying to mentally prepare herself for the grueling task ahead.

The familiar streets of National City melt away as she speeds through, inconsequential to the occupants going about their business with no sense that anything is amiss. Maggie reaches her first destination, inside their world is still turning with no indication everything is about to come crashing down.

Maggie knocks.

The vibrations radiating from her handlebars send skitters of pain through her wound. She bites her lip and concentrates hard on every twinge as it pulses. Most cops would tell you death notifications were one of, if not the worst parts of the job. And It was so much worse when you knew the people involved.

Two, Three, Four,Five the visits start to merge together but the repetition sure as hell doesn’t make any of the consecutive stops any easier if anything they’re becoming progressively harder.

Maggie leans heavily on her bike, she can feel the tear tracks on her cheek as she clenches her fists. She kicks futilely at the curb wishing she had super strength so she could watch it crumble. 

She had just finished the last notification, none them were easy but she knew this one would be the hardest, there was no satisfaction in being right about it.

It wasn’t even a question that Zalra was leaving behind the biggest family out of all the victims. The Crazirari were a communal species, they had no gender and were able to produce offspring on their own or with the genetic contribution of one or more bondmates. 

Zalra was a renowned scientist on their home planet as were their bondmates Twyah and Va'A'tix. They were explorers first and foremost living nomadic lives, traveling the galaxy to experience life on other planets. Zalra often spent time in the alien bar fascinated with the melting pot of various alien and human cultures, claiming science with a cheeky grin while observing the chemistry behind what drinks could be consumed by which species to what effects.

The Crazirari had a life expectancy that far surpassed humans and their arrival on planet earth marked four generations of their family which in addition to the Crazirari themselves now contained many species from all over the galaxy who were drawn into their tight-knight fold over centuries of exploration. 

Maggie had been invited to several family events over the years, it was obvious to anyone who ever crossed paths with Zalra that they had a penchant for taking in strays. 

Maggie can feel the rage bubbling but it’s gone just as quickly. Maggie doesn’t think she’s ever felt this drained in her damn life.

She’s about to take off again, deliberating the merit of finding a bottle of whiskey or two to drown in when her phone rings.

“Is this Detective Sawyer?” a cool, clipped voice inquires. Maggie can practically hear the ‘fine breeding’ dripping off of it. 

“Who’s asking?”

“If you're interested in defeating Cadmus then you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

There’s no doubt in Maggie’s mind as to who she’s speaking with, perhaps Supergirl’s faith in the CEO wasn’t misplaced after all. 

“Lena Luthor.”

“You really are quite the detective aren’t you. To the point then, you’ll only get one chance to stop my mother and you’re going to have to trust me in order to take it.”

Maggie of thinks of the Luthor legacy, A Reign of Terror if she recalls the Daily Planet’s descriptor correctly. She thinks of the news footage from Lena’s speech as she symbolically changed the company’s name to L- Corp, her vow to pay a debt her family owed, to be a force for good. Maggie thinks of Lillian Luthor, Lena’s mother responsible for the senseless slaughter of her friends and of Supergirl’s belief in Lena herself.

Maggie considers what it would be like if she were judged alongside the parents who threw out their underage child because of who she might love, condemned for their sins because she bore their name. 

Ultimately Supergirl trusts Lena and Alex trusts Supergirl and Maggie, Maggie trusts Alex so..

“I’m listening.”

“We will get one shot at taking down my mother. You need to catch her in the act.”

“Of genocide? Are you insane.”’

“We don’t have time for this detective. I spent the last few hours figuring out a how to use Isotope 454 to make the virus inert instead the dispersion agent it’s meant to be.” 

“So your plan is to what convince your mother you’re on her side and then gas all of National City with a dormant alien killing virus.”

“My mother recently made a black market deal for a missile launcher so I’m going to go with rocket not gas.”

Maggie feels like reaching through the phone to strangle the other woman.

“There is no way in hell I’m letting you actually launch a rocket at National City. We can arrest her before it comes to that.”

“And how many criminals have you watched walk off with a clean slate because they had a name that held power and money to back it up? I give you my word that no harm will come to the alien population. It’s the word of a Luthor but it’s all I’ve got.”

If someone had told Maggie this morning she would even be entertaining an idea like this she would have thrown them in the drunk tank to sleep it off.

“Fine. I’ll go call in the cavalry.”

“You can’t do that.”

“ _Excuse me_?”

“My mother has eyes and ears everywhere and she won’t fully trust me. She’ll accept my help because she can’t see past her own myopic goals at the moment but she’ll do so on high alert. Unless we play this perfectly she will slip away and won’t make the same mistake twice. I called you Detective Sawyer not only because of your personal _interests_ but because my intel says that you are damn good at what you do and that when the cards are down you will do what needs to be done and do it within the law.”

“And what exactly is it you expect _me_ to do then?” Maggie doesn’t even try to mask the frustration in her voice.

“Gather your officers, not over the phones or radio. The port of National City is the only logical place to launch the virus, it will disperse right across National City. You’ll need to be ready to surround the area but not until _after_ we’ve already arrived. I’ve managed to set up an undetectable signal that will ping your phone once we get to the port.”

“Okay, so I wait for this signal and then we can move in I don’t see wh—”

“That won’t work.”

“Why the fuck not, Luthor.” 

“My mother will expect me to prove my loyalty by launching the rocket. You’ll need to wait until she pushes the button to detonate it. When she does that and nothing happens there will be absolutely no way for her deny her involvement nor time for her to escape.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do? How many people’s lives—” 

“What alternatives are there then Detective? Do you think I would take such a huge risk in even contacting you about this plan if I thought there was any other way to stop my mother? That if I could just call the police or the FBI and wash my hands of this entire situation I wouldn’t? I couldn’t bring Lex back from the brink of his madness. He was my world but I wasn’t _enough_ to stop him. I have to live with that but I will **not** stand by and let my mother commit mass murder.”

Maggie Sawyer hadn’t become the youngest female to make detective in Gotham of all places without being able to heavily rely on her instincts. Instincts which were telling her to believe Lena, so she did but that didn’t change the very nature of what Lena was asking her to do.

“Look that’s great, really but the risks of this virus on—”

“I may not be as good a CEO as Lex or as deft at negotiation as my mother. I may not have been a good enough sister, or daughter or Luthor. For god’s sake, I’m not even a good enough person half the time but I am a _goddamn_ scientific _genius_ and even if nothing else goes according to plan I can assure you that virus _will_ be inert.”

A breeze ruffles Maggie’s hair and she suddenly has the sense of time growing short. She could scarcely believe she was even entertaining…

Maggie considers all the angles. She could hardly fault Lena’s logic. Lillian Luthor was a dangerous, powerful woman and without the smoking gun she would be all but untouchable, it would come down to circumstantial evidence and the hearsay of Luthor vs. Luthor. 

Maggie's problem of course, was that the smoking gun, in this case was a rocket carrying a deadly virus capable of wiping out National City's alien residents.

If Lillian Luthor got away she would only emerge again with a better plan, one, none of them might see coming. One that might succeed in wiping out more than just National City’s alien population in one fell swoop. 

Over two years and Maggie had never been this close to Cadmus.... 

_How could any of this possibly be your fault?_ Supergirl’s words rang in her ears.

The plan made sense, so long as Lena’s words were true it was tactically sound but...

If Maggie was wrong….if Maggie was wrong she’d be signing the death warrants of every last alien in National city.

Maggie closes her eyes, she thinks of Darla and the first time she said te amo, she thinks of the unnamed test subjects likely still in in Cadmus’ clutches, she thinks of Zalra’s last birthday and the party that shut down a city block, she thinks of twenty-one names and twenty-three faces and forty-seven unseeing eyes and the loss of a sanctuary, she thinks of teaching Ibvash to make her grandmother’s empanadas and the cork board in her repurposed utility closet. 

Maggie thinks of all the lives that could be changed in the next few hours, of all the lives that already had been.

Maggie opens her eyes, she grits her teeth and steels her very soul

They were going to get one shot at Lillian Luthor and Maggie was going to take it. She wouldn’t be wrong about this. She couldn’t be.

“Fuck it, let’s do this.” Maggie wonders if she imagined Lena’s sigh of relief.

“You won’t have long, I’ll be contacting my mother after we disconnect. She won’t hesitate to come straight here, not with the isotope so close and the port isn’t far from L-Corp. I have no doubt Supergirl will be making an appearance as well, her men in black will be tracing the radioactive signature of the isotope but there won’t be enough time for their reinforcements to get there which is why you’ll need to be waiting. First set of beeps and you should get in position, after that well just wait for the fireworks display.”

Maggie snarls not appreciating the flippant remark in the slightest but she filters it out focusing on the pertinent information.

“Alright then, see you on the other side.”

“Just remember Detective you can’t speak of this over any devices and use only officers you trust.”

And with that last remark the line goes dead. Maggie curses a blue streak that she is so much farther from the DEO than the precinct. She wants nothing more than to have Alex watching her back for this but she’ll have to make due.

Maggie’s trip to the station passes in a blur. In fact, it sort of feels like someone hit the fast forward button on the last hour or so because suddenly Maggie finds herself cuffing Lillian Luthor with only a vague point of reference for how she came to be doing so. 

She doesn’t dwell on it, the day so far had been hell, Maggie simply savors the snick as the handcuffs lock and reads Lillian Luthor her rights. 

Maggie frog marches the sneering woman to a reinforced police cruiser and uses every molecule of self-restraint to not accidentally shove her head into the frame as she’s pushed into the backseat. 

Lena walks over to Maggie waiting until she slams the cruiser door shut. She extends a hand to Maggie containing a sheaf of paper, “My sworn statement.”

Maggie takes the papers tilting her head as she stares at them and almost misses Lena turning to walk away.

“Hey, Luthor wait.” Lena stops, barely concealing the flinch at her given name. Maggie takes a few steps towards her, keeping the cruiser Lillian is situated in within eye line. 

“Look, I’ve been tracking Cadmus for a long time, I….I lost some good friends in their attack earlier tonight. And I just wanted to say, “

Lena braces herself waiting for whatever harsh words the detective was about to unleash. 

“Thank you.”

“I beg your pardon.” Lena’s so shocked the emotion shows on her usually carefully constructed face.

“I don’t imagine turning in your mother was easy, family is... it’s complicated. You saved a lot of lives tonight. I’d check with Supergirl but I’m pretty sure that makes you kind of a hero.” 

Maggie quickly turns to go, casually emoting is really not in her wheelhouse, tossing a “Catch you around Luthor.” over her shoulder.

Maggie climbs into the waiting cruiser and god what she would give for her bike right now but there was no way in hell she was letting Lillian Luthor out of her sight.

Lena watches the procession of flashing lights drive away and the air doesn’t seem as brutally cold as it had moments ago. She catches Supergirl’s eye and offers up a hint of a smile. Supergirl looks surprised before breaking out in a dazzling grin and Lena thinks maybe there’s a little hope in her future after all.

Back at the station, Maggie sits at her desk feeling things start to settle. Without the threat of imminent doom hanging overhead, the sorrow begins to seep more prominently in. There could only be so much distraction found in paperwork.

Lillian Luthor sits in a jail cell awaiting pick-up from the feds where she would no doubt quietly disappear. When the time came Maggie trusted Alex would bring her into the D.E.O’s op to take down the rest of Cadmus. She could only hope there were prisoners left who weren’t beyond saving. Maggie makes sure to attach copies of her accumulated case notes in the transfer paperwork in the hopes something might help.

For now Maggie’s content at least to know it wasn’t possible for the woman to slither her way out of the station like Veronica Sinclair.

Maggie ends up staring through her paperwork without really seeing it. She considers symbolically dismantling her utility closet but just because Lillian Luthor is behind bars hardly means all’s well that ends well.

They cut off the head of the hydra but it’s limbs were still flailing and more would undoubtedly grow in its place but that was tomorrow’s problem for tonight at least it was over. 

“Sawyer what the hell are you doing here?” Maggie jumps barely biting down on a curse, she must have been really out of it to not hear the clicking of the Captain’s heels approach. 

“Ma’am?”

“I was told you were shot detective, you shouldn’t be anywhere near your desk."

“With all due respect Ma’am as the arresting officer, I wasn’t about to leave anything to chance and let Lillian Luthor walk on some bullshit technicality from late paperwork. The FBI is supposed to come pick her up soon, I wanted to have everything ready to go.”

Maggie watches the Captain pinch the bridge of her nose, “Of course you were the arresting officer, it’s _just_ a bullet wound after all, why am I not surprised.”

“It was a laser, Ma’am.”

“What was that, Sawyer?”

“I wasn’t shot by a bullet, it was a laser, attached to a cyborg.”

Maggie watched the Captain close her eyes and take a deep breath, leaving Maggie to wonder if maybe she'd pushed things just a little too far this time even if it was the truth.

“Sawyer, are you almost done with your paperwork?”

“Just about. ”

“Fine as soon as that’s finished I want you out of here and if I see you step one foot inside this station within the next five days you’re fired do I make myself clear? And don’t even think about arguing.”

Honestly despite her natural inclination to do just that, Maggie kind of feels like she could sleep for an entire week anyway so she surprises both of them when she says, 

“Wouldn’t dream of it Ma’am.” 

The captain spares her an eye-roll as she turns on her heel and heads for the door, pausing by the frame without turning around, 

“Oh and Detective? Good work.”

Maggie watches the Captain disappear down the hallway before returning her attention to her desk to put her signature on the last few remaining documents.

Task finished Maggie leans back in her chair stretching and wincing when her stitches pull at the movement. 

It makes her realize a long hot shower is out of the question tonight and really isn’t that just the cherry on top of a shit day. 

And god had it really only been a day and not even a full one at that. Maggie’s stomach growls reminding her that she skipped out on lunch to chase down an informant and then the call had come and… 

Well, breakfast seemed like a distant memory, it was crazy to think about how much had happened since then. Maggie never imagined when she woke up this morning today would bring with it such a distinct shift that looking back would form a clear-cut Before and After. 

They happen all the time and yet no one ever really sees those days coming, when something permanently changes altering the very fabric of an individual’s reality. It was strange to think events from today could become history for the books and Maggie’s defining memory would be something completely innocuous like a lava lamp. 

_Maggie steps into the bar eyes immediately drawn to the only movement in the entire place, purple wax twisting and warping in softly glowing orange light._

It didn’t replace the more traumatic memories in her mind, Maggie would never really forget stepping into the bar, bleeding out in Supergirl’s arms, or the limbo between the rocket exploding and the certainty it hadn’t worked and still the lava lamp would always come to mind first.

The shrink from her mandated therapy sessions before being cleared to return for duty would say something about her brain utilizing coping mechanisms. 

Not long after Maggie finishes her paperwork the front desk alerts her that the feds have arrived. J’onn comes to collect Lillian Luthor himself looking better than she’s seen him look in a while. 

Maggie discreetly looks around hoping to catch a glimpse of Alex. This is a huge deal, she should be here, shouldn’t she. 

Maggie does spot Vasquez among the contingent of agents facilitating the transfer though they don’t get the chance to exchange more than acknowledging head nods. Maggie’s attention is drawn by Supergirl’s landing causing her to miss Vasquez’s smirk and knowing gaze at the familiar jacket with sleeves pushed up to keep them from falling over Maggie’s wrists. 

Maggie watches Supergirl exchange words with J’onn and it wouldn’t be completely unprofessional to ask Supergirl about Alex’s whereabouts while in the middle of a prisoner transfer, right? They had bonded or something what with the life saving and the personal life rambling.

Maggie tries to physically shake the thoughts of Alex from her head. It’s not working and Maggie is relieved to have avoided making a fool of herself when she hears J’onn speaking to base through his commlink. Of course, Alex, who was second in command would be overseeing the operation back at HQ.

Maggie manages to sideline her brain’s Alex related wanderings long enough to extract a promise from J’onn to be brought in on subsequent Cadmus related operations once her shoulder is healed. 

After watching the team roll out Maggie makes her way back inside more than ready for the day to be over.

Maggie has every intention of collecting her things and making good on her promise to the Captain to steer clear of the station. However, somewhere in the midst of executing that plan Maggie sat down and zoned out. Her emotions won’t settle long enough for her to pick one to fully experience and her thoughts are as disjointed as they are plentiful. 

And they keep coming back around to Alex. 

So much pain had been packed into these last few hours and Maggie doesn’t want to dwell on it. She’s so _tired_ but this grief is a part of her now and will be for some time. 

Still, Maggie can’t stop thinking about Alex, it occurs to her that throughout this nightmare Alex was never far, in thought or deed. 

She was a constant, an anchor. Maggie scrubs her hands across her face and when Alex’s scent invades her senses Maggie feels a split second of panic that she’s hallucinating before remembering she’s still wearing Alex’s jacket. 

Maggie's stomach growls again and it's sufficient motivation to actually get her moving out of the station but not enough to distract her from thoughts of Alex.

If breakfast was a distant memory then the last few weeks seemed like an eternity passing. It was hard to wrap her mind around how much really had changed in a comparatively short amount of time. It wasn’t the same lightning quick strike, splintering reality into before the attack and after it. Rather it was a slow and steady tide eroding the landscape so subtly that it was barely noticeable yet undeniably changed.

Three months ago Maggie Sawyer had no idea that Alex Danvers even existed. Two months ago Alex Danvers was a friend. One month ago Maggie was the catalyst for Alex’s self-discovery. Two weeks ago things got ‘a little like complicated’ between them. One week and they were _friends_ again because three months ago Maggie may have had no idea Alex existed but now she didn't want to imagine her life without Alex in it.

Today Alex stood in front of Maggie proud to be who she was and Maggie had seen few things braver in her life. 

In the wake of that interaction Maggie recognized her own paralyzing fear.

Maggie had been around the rainbow block enough times to see the writing on the wall, the potential minefield of Alex Danvers’ big gay awakening on Maggie’s battered heart. So she tried to be the person she wished had been around for her when she was coming out. A friend who understood.

She could sense the stirrings of a crush on Alex’s part and tried to keep a tight lid on any, more- than-friendly feelings she might have herself for Alex to avoid sending mixed signals. 

Alex spoke a lot about Kara and though Maggie hadn’t met the younger Danvers her instincts told her Kara would always support Alex. So she encouraged Alex to come-out to her sister, telling her she shouldn’t have to go through her stuff alone even as Maggie confirmed that Alex did indeed have her too. 

Alex deserved to live a full happy life and Maggie knew Kara’s support would help with that but Kara was also Maggie’s failsafe in case things between her and Alex imploded. 

Despite the contingency planning, she was still caught off guard by the kiss and she cursed herself for sinking into it for even the briefest moment. 

When she pulled back from Alex who was chasing another kiss, Alex’s eyes were still closed, expression one of pure bliss and Maggie panicked. Her exes words echoed in her head and Maggie was having trouble not believing them. Maggie was damaged and she didn’t want to be the one responsible for knocking baby bird Alex out of the nest before she could fly. 

Alex meant far too much to her already and she didn’t want to lose her because of some shiny school-girl crush.

It wasn’t until Alex went off in the PD parking garage, _I was sure of one thing and that was my feelings for **you**_ , that Maggie considered maybe Alex wasn’t just crushing on her because she was a lesbian and there but because she was _Maggie_. 

It almost made things worse because Alex said things like, _I had feelings for this amazing woman_ and _how could I not like you_ but Maggie knew better. 

Alex would probably realize Maggie wasn’t worth it anyway, after all for Maggie loving someone had become synonymous with them leaving.

She would rather have Alex as a friend than just one more person who never wanted to see her again.

The thing is Maggie _likes_ Alex a whole lot more than originally intended and she can’t quite get the look on Alex’s face when she thought Maggie was still asleep out of her head. 

When exactly had Maggie become a person who let fear of what might happen keep her from trying. She considered maybe it was time to apply a little bit of that fearlessness she approached all other aspects of her life to her personal relationships for a change.

Maggie didn’t think she had made the wrong choice turning Alex down after the kiss especially in light of Alex’s confession earlier. It was just maybe there wasn’t really a wrong time for love, or not wanting to imagine your life without someone it, whatever. 

Because damn it, she had almost died. She was lucky to not share the fate of at least twenty-three others that day. 

It had Maggie pondering her justification for rejecting Alex in her own mind, it’s not the right time. Soon other phrases started seeping into her brain and she couldn’t stop thinking in damn cliches. 

Life is too short.

What doesn’t kill you ~~doesn’t kill you~~ makes you stronger. 

Love is blind.

No one is promised tomorrow.

There’s no time like the present.

Nothing ventured nothing gained.

And fuck was there a cliche for having a defining moment where you realize cliches were apparently cliches for a reason.

Of course, as if the cliches weren’t enough there’s suddenly a voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Darla singing a very loud, very off key rendition of “Kiss the Girl” complete with a terrible Jamaican accent. 

Maggie doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, she needs a fucking drink.

Maggie finds herself standing in the liquor store in a staring contest with a shelf of whiskey. 

Option 1: Purchase whiskey. Return home alone and proceed to lose cool.

Probable outcomes include: broken furniture, excessive crying, torn stitches, sleeping in the bathtub and a killer hangover.

Option 2: Purchase beer. Bring Alex pizza and proceed to attempt chill.

Probable outcomes include: eating pizza with Alex, talking with Alex, dramatic confession of feelings for Alex, slightly less excessive crying, and hopefully kissing. 

Maggie picks up a 6-pack.

Two protein bars, one change of clothes, thirty-seven minutes and pizza detour later Maggie stares at Alex’s door and considers tucking tail and running. 

_Creo que es valiente tratar de ser feliz._

Maggie takes a deep breath, balancing the 6-pack on top of the pizza box for a second, she knocks and waits.

She knows Alex is inside, there may have been a slightly questionable use of police resources at some point during those thirty-seven minutes but Alex opens the door and Maggie just about forgets how to speak.

She manages two words, “Hey. Hungry?” Luckily Alex doesn’t seem to notice as she beckons her inside. 

“Yes. Come in, please. Ignore the pajamas.” Alex says, taking the pizza box from her as Maggie makes a beeline for the counter.

“Oh, no. they’re cute.” Of course, Alex is the type to wear nice matching pajamas. Maggie thinks of her own ‘pajama’ drawer filled with faded cartoon bottoms, boxers, and mismatched t-shirts, for when she bothers to wears anything at all.

“You ah—It’s late ya got a case or somethin’? Oh god, I could really use a good old fashioned murder right now.” 

Maggie tries to focus on what she needs to say. She knows better than to just wing these conversations usually. 

“You know Ium.. I didn’t really come for work I just really needed to see you- and to talk to you.”

Maggie tries not to let Alex’s movements distract her. Alex is being practical, friendly, because they’re friends and Maggie needs to get to the point before she loses her nerve. 

“Is everything okay?” 

_Nope_. Maggie thinks succinctly. 

“Well uh here’s the thing is I almost died .” Maggie picked an angle, she’s proud of herself. 

“Uh yeah no I would not have let that happen.” Maybe Maggie swoons just a little before zeroing back in on her task. 

“No wait I know that,but um it got me thinking that I... I was so stupid I..I thought that and i guess— I was kinda right that you-you came out for me.” Well, that got Alex's attention if the deer in the headlights expression is anything to go by. Maggie can’t keep looking at Alex and get this out so goes back to pacing and soldiers on.

“And that scared me. Um but um. Life is too short.” If the cliches were good enough to get her here, they would just have to be good enough for this speech.

“And we should be who we are. And we should kiss the girls we want to kiss.” 

Alex doesn’t seem to be comprehending where Maggie is going with this which to be fair Maggie threw the word friends at the poor girl enough that it would be wholly up to Maggie to make the next move.

“And I really just I — I wanna kiss you.” Alex’s face hasn’t so much as twitched since the slight understanding nod of agreement about being who they were. 

It looked like Maggie was going to have to hit her over the head with this.

Would that be considered another cliche or just a tv reference, maybe it was both. Focus.

It didn’t matter, the point was actions spoke louder than words, Maggie figures embracing the clichés got her this damn far.

So Maggie kisses her. 

It takes a moment before Alex kisses back, just enough time for Maggie to wonder if she just made a monumental mistake but then Alex _melts_. Alex kisses her back and Maggie can feel the warmth radiating from Alex’s hand on her arm, even through the leather of her jacket. 

Alex’s skin is smooth under her touch and when Maggie pulls back, Alex is frozen eyes closed, the expression is so similar to the one she wore the first time that Maggie’s heart breaks and heals all at once.

This time she doesn’t panic.

“So you’re saying you like me, That-that’s what I got.” Maggie can’t help the tiny laugh that bubbles up because Alex is just too precious. They’re both grinning at each other like fools and Maggie realizes the world hasn’t been kind to either of their hearts. Maggie vows to change that for Alex.

“Of course. You’re not going to go crazy on me are you?” Maggie winces a little in her head as if she hadn’t been the one to track down Alex at her sister’s apartment to deliver the most romantic let’s be friends speech ever written and then proceeded to show up at the woman's own apartment in the middle of the night days later to kiss her citing a near death experience . 

“Probably. Yeah.” Alex unaware of Maggie’s self-deprecating train of thought, gazes at Maggie intently, studying her as if she might disappear at any moment. Maggie doesn’t think there will ever be a part of her not stunned when Alex looks at _her_ with such unbridled emotion. 

Alex tenderly runs her fingers through Maggie’s hair and from her expression it’s something she’d been thinking about doing for awhile.

Then Alex grabs Maggie’s face kissing her again. There is nothing tentative in this kiss and Maggie finds herself altogether lost in everything that is Alex. 

Maggie isn’t sure how long they stand there immersed in one another but she ends up with her fingers tangled in Alex’s hair, pulling her closer. Alex’s hands have found their way to Maggie’s waist, and Maggie is enjoying the almost even height with Alex barefoot while she’s in her heeled boots. 

Maggie’s nails scrape lightly across Alex’s scalp and she can feel Alex’s fingertips dig into her hip in response. 

Alex nips at Maggie’s bottom lip and there’s no controlling the soft moan that spills out of her mouth. They next thing Maggie knows Alex’s hands are gripping the bottom of her thighs and lifting, Alex doesn’t break the kiss as she deposits Maggie on the counter.

Alex situates herself between Maggie’s legs, leaning her weight on Maggie’s thighs as she trails small kisses along Maggie’s jaw and back again. 

Maggie is intoxicating and Alex didn’t know she could _want_ like this. She feels like every one of her nerve-endings is on fire. Alex grips Maggie harder trying to pour every ounce of this crackling energy she's feeling into their kiss.

Maggie’s head is spinning, this is not even remotely how she expected this to go, not that she’s complaining. Alex goes back in for another taste of Maggie’s mouth every time they slightly break before eventually pulling back completely. 

Alex’s eyes stay closed and she rests her forehead against Maggie’s as they both catch their breath. Alex doesn’t make any attempt to move away, content in their position as she traces patterns on Maggie’s thigh. 

She opens her eyes after not too long, finding Maggie already looking at her. Alex smiles before asking, “Are you okay?”

Maggie can’t help her eyebrow that shoots up, “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line, Danvers.” 

It doesn't escape Alex’s notice that Maggie sidestepped the inquiry.

Alex raises her hand to softly caress Maggie’s cheek, “Well, I am fantastic.” A sudden laugh erupts from Alex’s chest, unexpected and loud but unmistakably a sound of pure delight. 

Maggie watches Alex’s eyes glow as she exclaims, “I am awesome,” then Alex actually giggles. Maggie raises a brow even though she’s smiling so wide her cheeks ache as Alex continues, “like really awesome, I finally get why people _like_ this.” 

Maggie’s smile softens and she knows her heart has never felt quite this kind of weightlessness inspired by another person. 

Alex leans in and places a slow tender kiss on Maggie’s lips before stepping back and holding out her hand. When Maggie takes it Alex beams interlacing their fingers. She grabs the two opened beer bottles with the other hand as she tugs Maggie off the counter. 

“Grab the pizza box Sawyer.” Alex says, trying to pull them over to the couch. 

‘Hang on.” Maggie responds, bending down to pick up the papers now scattered on the floor after being knocked off the island in Maggie’s descent.

“Wait a minute are these my case notes from Cadmus?” 

Alex looks weary when she offers up a wry grin, “Uhm any chance I could convince you they aren’t?”

“After a day like today were you seriously sitting in your kitchen pouring over case notes in the middle of the night?”

Alex rubs the back of her neck, “In my defense if J’onn hadn’t kicked me out I’d be doing it at the D.E.O.?” 

Maggie can’t help but chuckle, it’s possible Alex is even more of a work-a-holic than she is which is saying something. 

“I’m not sure if that’s better or worse, wait why were you kicked out?”

Alex seems to acquire a sudden fascination with a spot on the wall just below the ceiling.

“I may have possibly tried to rearrange a few of Lillian Luthor’s vital organs with my index finger.”

That was not the answer Maggie was expecting and it must show on her face because Alex sighs before moving into Maggie’s personal space to pluck the papers out of her hand, setting them back on the counter. 

Alex leans in stealing a quick kiss before placing one of the beer bottles in Maggie’s hand. Alex grabs the pizza box off the island and moves it to the table in front of the fireplace.

“This is definitely a sitting conversation.” Alex says, settling into the corner of the couch.

“You can make yourself at home, ya know, if you were planning on hanging out or whatever.” Alex motions not so subtly to Maggie's jacket. 

Maggie shakes her head at Alex’s antics but removes her jacket, shifting to place it on the chair next to Alex’s own. She snorts seeing Alex’s gun resting on top of the material.

“You totally went to answer your door armed when I knocked, didn't you?” Maggie teased. “You know serial killers don't typically announce themselves.”

Alex rolls her eyes even though she’s grinning, “Like you don’t do the exact same thing, Sawyer.”

Maggie walks over to the couch hesitating for just a second before deciding to screw playing it cool and taking a seat in the middle, directly next to Alex as opposed to the opposite end.

Alex smiles broadly at her and Maggie knew she made the right choice. 

Alex passes Maggie a slice of pizza before grabbing one of her own. The silence is comfortable as they both work their way through the food. Alex makes it through two and a half slices before angling her body to face Maggie and putting her half-eaten pizza next to the box. 

“You know how I’ve never mentioned my dad? He died, when I was a teenager or at least we thought he had. We found out a few months ago that he was still alive…Cadmus has him.”

Maggie had stopped eating as well and placed her hand palm up across her knee allowing Alex the choice in whether she wanted the contact. 

Maggie scoots slightly closer when Alex gratefully takes her hand. Falling into running her thumb rhythmically over Alex’s knuckles in silent comfort as Alex continues speaking, 

“About a week or so before we met I discovered a Cadmus mole in the D.E.O, I set a trap but the whole thing was a setup. Cadmus killed him in front of me and I met Lillian Luthor for the first time. I didn’t realize who she was until later but she did the whole villain monologue thing and tried to get me to join the dark side. I swore that after I found my father, I would come for her.” 

Alex runs her free hand through her hair loosening the top from its clip. Maggie reaches over to tuck one of the recently escaped strands behind Alex’s ear. She offers a small smile when Alex takes a deep breath to continue.

“The transfer team passed me when they were taking Luthor to her cell. She started taunting me, saying we had no way of knowing if they did anything else to Supergirl when she was kidnapped, that I wouldn’t ever find my dad. I shouldn’t have— I’m stronger than— Alex breaks off shuddering to keep her emotions under control. 

Maggie squeezes her hand and Alex’s voice is hard as she continues, “My mom was there and K— I just snapped, went after Luthor. Vasquez had to try and haul me off before Supergirl was able to intervene. J’onn told me to take the next few days off and that it was non-negotiable. Technically it should’ve went on my record but J’onn was more worried about me than the actual infraction so it’s the little things I guess.”

Maggie tilted her head scanning Alex’s face until she was satisfied before breaking out her dimples, “Hey, well that makes two of us. Captain wasn’t amused to find me at my desk after I’d been shot.” 

“How is the shoulder doing?” Alex asked, unconsciously reaching towards the limb in question. 

“Not too bad, I’ve had worse.” Alex looks unamused and Maggie wonders if Alex is going to try and make her take off her shirt. She really hopes not because she has no plans to be wounded, or quite this emotionally fucked up the first time they have sex and she also doesn’t want to leave just yet.

Unfortunately, if she actually hears Alex say the words ‘take your shirt off’ Maggie is going to have to go and take a long, cold shower stitches be damned. 

Maggie injects her next words with what she hopes is an overdose of reassurance just to be sure.

“Seriously, Danvers it’s fine.” Alex eventually nods seeming to accept her answer for now. 

Although, Maggie swears she saw Alex’s finger twitch a few times as if she were tempted to poke Maggie in the shoulder just to prove her point. Maggie’s thankful that she refrains.

“And uh how are you with… uh everything?” Maggie’s entire body stills and she can’t look at Alex knowing the concern and sympathy heavy in Alex’s eyes would destroy what little control she was clinging to. 

Maggie can’t even confidently say her continued to heart beat for a minute there. She lets go of Alex’s hand leaning over to snag her barely touched beer off the table. She takes a deep pull and tries to curl in on herself. Maggie picks at the label desperately battling to stave off the wave of grief sweeping over her. 

Alex sits up placing a gentle hand on Maggie’s arm and that’s all it takes for the dam to break.

Maggie chokes on a sob and Alex gently takes the beer out of her hands placing it on the coffee table as she draws Maggie into a hug. 

Maggie burrows into her side, unable to stop the torrent of tears. Alex runs her hands through Maggie’s hair whispering, “I got you.” and Maggie sobs harder, strangled _I’m sorry’s_ in between shuddering breaths. Alex shushes her, murmuring a steady stream of, _I’m here’s_ and _I got you’s_ , alternating between rubbing soothing circles across her back and stroking her head. 

The tears keep coming, and Maggie can’t stop them now that they’ve started. 

Maggie cries for Darla and she cries for the loss of a safe haven, she cries for Zalra and the four generations of family grieving, she cries for Ibvash and Naesnzoar and the nameless victims of Cadmus’ experiments, she cries for ten families mourning their dead, for the ten dead who have no one else to but her to mourn them and she cries for the unknown number whose loved ones may never know what became of them, she cries for Alex’s dad and for her mom, she cries for twenty-one friends and two strangers and she cries for a girl with the weight of worlds on her shoulders, she cries for a lonely girl who doesn’t believe she’s enough, for a girl who can’t see her own perfection and she cries for a little non-white queer girl from blue springs, Nebraska, she cries for all the queer kids and non-white kids who feel like outcasts because of who they are.

She cries because she still doesn’t know if she was soaring or dying. 

She cries until she can’t breathe and Alex is sitting her up and matching their breaths in time. The tears slow as her consciousness slowly swims back from her emotional depths and...

_“We give it all, now there's a reason why I sing, So give it all, and it's these reasons that belong to me. Breathe (breathe), the air we give (give), the life we live (live), our pulses racing distances, (breathe)”_

Alex was singing. Alex was singing wait, “Is that Rise Against?” Alex squeaked at the sudden sound of Maggie’s voice. Maggie knew her voice was hoarse from crying but she hardly thought it warranted that reaction.

“Uh yea it is, sorry I just you were having trouble breathing and singing used to help Kara after she woke up crying from nightmares when she first came to live with us and it was the first thing that popped into my head so I just-

“Rise Against was the first thing that popped in your head?” Alex with her eyes a little wild opens her mouth but Maggie speaks again before she can get started on another ramble.

“Easy Danvers, it was nice, you just didn’t strike me as the punk rock type.”

Alex snorted, trying to will the flush out of her cheeks, “There _may_ have been a phase in high school.”

Maggie perked up a tiny bit. “Please tell me there are pictures.”

Alex cringes, “None that you will ever see.” 

Alex slowly disentangles herself from Maggie, squeezing her thigh as she stands up.

Maggie tries to keep the banter up shaking slightly without the sturdy support of Alex. “Not even if I ask reallly nicely?” Her throat may hurt from being raw but it’s doing amazing things for her ‘bedroom’ voice. 

Alex walks out of the bathroom with a wet washcloth and a bottle of painkillers. She hands Maggie the warm washcloth and drops a kiss on her head on her way to the kitchen. 

“Using that voice is not playing fair, ya know.” Alex returns handing Maggie a glass of water and pushing the painkillers towards her. 

“And don’t even try and argue, your shoulder has got to be killing you. I’ll play the Doctor card if I have to.” Maggie manages to offer up a small smile in thanks accepting the pills. She’s quiet for a few minutes before she looks up at Alex not quite meeting her gaze.

“Hey um I’m sorr—" 

Alex cuts Maggie off moving to sit beside her again, “Nope, I am absolutely not going to let you apologize, not for that.” 

Maggie nods, she’s not one for losing her cool around other people but Alex makes her feel safe.

“I just can’t believe they’re gone and the bar….” Maggie sighs, leaning her head on Alex’s shoulder, enjoying the silent comfort as Alex absentmindedly strokes up and down her arm.

After awhile Alex playfully bumps her shoulder against Maggie’s uninjured one, “If it’ll cheer you up some I could be persuaded to show you my liberty spiking skills.”

Maggie squints, “You mean like... “ Maggie makes a vague gesture at Alex’s head.

“I don’t have to go to work for a few days.” Alex shrugs.

“Wait you’re serious? You mean like a mohawk.” Maggie asks a bit incredulously. 

“Technically not a mohawk because a. I am not shaving the sides or any part of my head, not even for you and b. A mohawk is one straight strip, liberty spikes are well spikes.”

Maggie looks at Alex in disbelief, “You were not kidding about that punk phase were you.”

Alex chuckles, “Nope.” 

Maggie grins up at her, “That’s kinda hot, but I’m not gunna lie I kinda like your hair the way it is.” 

Maggie leans in, cupping the back of Alex’s neck and sliding her fingers up into Alex’s hair pulling her down for a kiss. Alex hums contentedly, making Maggie smile into the kiss before she breaks away. Maggie keeps her fingers tangled in Alex’s hair gently scratching at her scalp much to Alex’s enjoyment.

“Alright well can I get you anything? I think I have ice cream, definitely have whiskey, I can make tea, or hot chocolate, oh I have gingerbread!”

“Gingerbread? Thanksgiving was yesterday, Danvers. You're not telling me you're one of those people are you?”

“They're shaped like turkeys, okay and they were a gift.” Maggie has heard about Kara’s pout and it’s near magical qualities but she quickly realizes it must be a learned trait instead of a genetic one because Alex is pouting at her and god she is so screwed already.

“A gift huh? Does that mean I have a challenger for your affections?” She's joking but there's a hint of vulnerability shot through it. Echoes and whispers that tell her Alex deserved better than what she had to offer, reminding her she had already broken Alex’s heart once. 

Maggie only realizes she’s holding her breath when Alex’s soft smile causes her to inhale. Alex is looking at her with that quiet awe again and Maggie refuses to let her demons ruin this. If Alex says she doesn’t want her then Maggie would go but until then she would try her best to make Alex happy.

“I don’t like pie.” Maggie’s head tilts in confusion. “Kara’s favorite desert in the entire galaxy is chocolate pecan pie so my mom always makes like four of those at Thanksgiving. Vasquez’s extended family is huge and they always make an obscene amount of cookies for every holiday, Erin, her wife always sends her my way with some.” Alex reaches up and gently untangles Maggie’s fingers from her hair, sandwiching Maggie’s hands in between both of hers. 

“So no, there’s no challenger for my affections but if there was, I’d still pick you.” Alex turns her body so she’s facing Maggie.

“Yeah?” Maggie turns her body as well so that their positions mirror each other. 

“Yes, Maggie.” They both lean in, Maggie can feel Alex’s breath on her face, she’s about to close the distance when Alex all but whispers, “Well I mean there’s Lucy but she wants both of us so I don’t think that counts as a ‘challenger’?” against her lips. 

It takes a minute for Alex’s sentence to process and when it does Maggie’s head jerks back as a reflex so she can see Alex’s face. Maggie waits for the laugh or some clue that Alex had been joking but there’s just that pout again and slight confusion over why she isn’t being kissed. 

“Wait, you’re not kidding.” 

“Why would I kid about Lucy being into us?” Alex looks genuinely perplexed and holy shit apparently Maggie had not even begun to touch upon all the ways Alex would continue to surprise her.  
.  
“Okay, we’re are gunna have to just revisit that at some point in the future.” Maggie shoves the thought to live in the back of her brain until a more appropriate time came. The cliches were only going to get her so far tonight and she was more than happy with what she’s already accomplished at this point. 

Stray thoughts taken care of, Maggie surges forward capturing Alex’s lips in a deeps kiss. Before long Alex finds herself pressed into the couch cushions, Maggie warm and solid on top of her. This time it’s Maggie trailing kisses down Alex’s jaw, she continues down to Alex’s neck and Alex closes her eyes and swears she can see fireworks.

Alex worries she may not survive taking things further with Maggie who’s doing something truly inspired with her tongue and _Jesus_ Alex thinks it’s just her _neck_ which if you’d asked her about fifteen minutes ago she would have claimed it wasn’t that sensitive. 

Alex tries to stop thinking all together which leads to her hands slipping under Maggie’s shirt and they both groan at the contact. Alex’s fingers tease skin and when Alex feels Maggie’s abs twitch under her hands as Maggie bites down on her pulse point Alex almost...

They both seem to realize the dangerous territory they’re skirting and pull back by a mutually unspoken agreement. They’re both panting and Maggie gazes down at Alex with heavy-lidded eyes, wondering if her lips look as swollen as Alex’s do at the moment. 

Maggie knows she should move but she stays hovering over Alex even as she says, “It’s getting late I should go.”

Alex reaches up brushing Maggie’s hair out of her eyes, “Maggie you can stay, ya know.”

“I don’t—"

“Maggie, just to sleep. It is late and neither one of us have work in morning. I’ll even take the couch. I just- you don’t have to do this alone. If you don’t want to, I’m here for you.”

Maggie looks at Alex’s sincere smile and she thinks about her empty apartment and the next week she has off. And the fact that she really, really doesn’t _want_ to go.

“I’ll stay on one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“I get a cute pair of pajamas too.” Alex rolls her eyes and goes to find Maggie something to sleep in. 

She emerges from her room and Maggie has started clearing up the pizza. Alex shoos her off to go change and finishes the straightening up herself. She tosses the beer bottles in the recycling and the rest of the beer in the fridge. When Alex gets to her still full tumbler of whiskey, she goes to toss it in the sink before staring at it, shrugging and sticking that in the fridge too. 

Maggie comes out of the bathroom and Alex hopes her sudden clutching of the island to stay upright wasn’t too noticeable. Alex feels like this whole relationship is going to be one neverending saga of ‘oh I get that now’ because oh shit _this_ is why someone wearing your clothes is a _thing._

The Stanford shirt that Alex dug up from the depths of her drawers was never going to be anything but borderline obscene on Alex but it fits Maggie perfectly. The pajama pants Alex gave her were a bit too long so she rolled them up at the waist creating a tantalizing strip of bare skin were the bottoms ended before the shirt began.

Alex wanted to lick that skin. 

“Ahem.” Alex jerks her head up to find Maggie smirking at her, eyes sparkling. “My eyes are up here, Danvers.” 

Alex groans burying her face in her hands as Maggie laughs. She mumbles something unintelligible through her hands.

Maggie crosses the room, sliding up to Alex and wrapping her in a hug from behind. “I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that.” Alex sighed, spinning around in Maggie’s embrace and inadvertently trapping herself between the counter and Maggie’s body. 

“I said, I _really_ like you in my clothes.”

“Well shucks, Danvers.” 

Alex rolls her eyes going in for a kiss which Maggie deepens pushing Alex firmly into the counter. Only stopping when Alex mumbles, “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that.” into her mouth and Maggie can’t stop laughing. 

Alex shoves her hip lightly, “If you’re ready to go to sleep. My room’s all set, there’s a tv and the Xbox is hooked up to Netflix if you want some background noise or even if you wanted to play something. Do you need anyth—” Maggie cuts her off with a kiss.

“Just you.”

“Mag—”

“Come on I’m not ready to go to sleep yet, we can put on a movie and cuddle.”

“Are you sure?’

“Of course I am, did you really think I was gunna kick you out of your own bed?”

“It’s not kicking me out if I offered, it’s chivalrous or something.” Maggie snickers grabbing Alex’s hand and pulling her towards the bedroom.

“Whatever you say, Casanova.”

They settle on D.E.B.S because Maggie wants something light and fluffy after the day from hell and insists Alex will feel differently about rom-coms with lesbians in them. Besides D.E.B.S is quirky and about a secret government organization and _just watch the damn movie with me Danvers_.

The movie ends, Alex does enjoy it and Maggie graciously pretends not to see her wiping away tears at the happy ending.

At some point, they had shifted from sitting up against the headboard in a mound of pillows to laying down in each other's arms.

Alex has her head on Maggie’s chest, fingertips drawing out random symbols across Maggie's abdomen while Maggie plays with her hair, so wrapped up in each other that neither of them is sure how long they've been laying there chasing sleep. 

“Hey, Sawyer?” the question is soft, hesitant like Alex doesn't want to break the spell because magic is the only description she can think of that even _touches_ this lofty feeling. She still asks though because Alex needs to _know_ if the magic is going to run out at midnight and she'll be left hurtling towards the ground. 

“Yea, Danvers?”

Alex's voice is small when she asks, “This is one of those I almost died and it made me realize what was important kinda things and not one of those I almost died so YOLO kind of things right?”

“Okay I want you to know I recognize this as a serious train of thought but YOLO, really?”

“Maggie— just are you...are you going to wake up tomorrow and decide you overreacted and that this..I'm not what you want?” 

The smile falls from Maggie’s face, "Alex, shit—" Maggie curses at herself, maneuvering so that she's facing Alex, "Hey, look at me, coming here tonight was one of the hardest and most rewarding things I've ever done. When you kissed me that night in the bar, inside I freaked out because I just got dumped and I thought you had a crush on _lesbian_ me not feelings for lesbian _me_ and I was so so afraid of losing you already." 

Maggie reaches out to cup Alex's cheek, brushing away a stray tear that falls from Alex's eye, "People died today, I could have died today and I couldn't stop thinking about _you_. I realized that if I died tomorrow I would regret letting fear keep me from trying...with us."

“So you’re saying you like me, That-that’s what I got.” Alex manages to choke out through the now freely falling tears. 

Maggie chuckles leaning in and kissing the tears away, "That's going to be a _thing_ isn't it?"

Alex is looking at Maggie again with wonderment in her eyes and Maggie feels a few hot tears slip down her own cheeks. 

Alex gently wipes them away smiling softly,"Probably. Yeah," and then they're kissing, absorbed in each other until the sun slowly rises without either of them noticing. They fall asleep sometime after dawn breaks limbs thoroughly tangled together.

Outside on the balcony a cape flutters and a Superhero flies away wearing a sister's grin, leaving behind a note and a prayer in her wake.

_Rao watch over them while I'm gone......and don't let Alex kill me for hopping universes without her and only leaving a note._

  
  


 

** Bonus **  


"Okay, so does this mean we're dating?"

"That depends, you wanna go steady with me, Danvers?"

Maggie can hear the laughter in Alex's voice as she struggles to get her sentence out, "Did you just...ask me...if I wanted....to go steady?"

"What I can't keep a little bit of mid-western charm?"

"How are you even keeping a straight face right now?"

"Well that's just highly insulting, my face is never straight." Maggie lets out a soft 'oomph' as Alex's hand connects lightly with her stomach in retaliation.

"So I can call you my girlfriend?"

Alex says the word girlfriend with so much reverence that Maggie doesn't even have the heart to tease her about it.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend, Alex." and yeah Maggie would never get tired of being the one to make Alex smile like _that_.

**Author's Note:**

> Creo que es valiente tratar de ser feliz - I think it's brave to try and be happy.
> 
> It's been a long time since high school Spanish and google translate can be questionable sometimes so if fucked up please let me know and I will happily fix it. (I'm fairly certain the hail mary excerpt is correct only because i spent 12 years of my life in catholic school and despite not stepping foot inside a church for years barring funerals can still recite several prayers in English, Latin and Spanish but if that's wrong too see above.)
> 
> When I started writing this to try and process the bar scene in 2.08 I had zero idea it would grow into this many damn words. I loved 2.08 and everything that they have done with the Alex/Maggie storyline so far. I was buckled in for the slowburn I expected it to last most of if not all of the season and I lost my collective shit when it cut to Alex sitting in her pj's cause I knew what was coming, I just couldn't believe it.
> 
> That said the bar situation really messed me up, I get that it was a plot device and they had a lot to cover in the episode. I just truly hope that it doesn't get swept under the rug without so much as a comment and they all go back to hanging out there like nothing ever happened, since it is a built set. 
> 
> So I guess this was my way to kind of deal with the fact that I don't believe Maggie Sawyer as a character free from the constraints of a tv time table would have been perfectly fine after the attack on the bar, hell I don't even think Alex would've. My biggest hope for the second half of the season now is that Maggie gets her own character development/plot outside of Alex's coming out storyline. I wanna know her back story, see her interact more with the other characters so she exists as more than just 'Alex's love interest' and whatever lesbian yoda sound board thing they had going on. 
> 
> And I _seriously_ hope that when Kriesberg says Alex will find out Maggie's not perfect it doesn't mean some shitty plot twist or bullshit character decimation and instead means Maggie getting to be an actual person and Alex not knowing how to deal with that in a healthy way relationship wise because she never cared about anyone enough in that context for it to be an issue.
> 
> If anyone at all cares as to why Maggie's apparently seen only 7 seasons of stargate it's because she shipped sam/janet and got pissed when Janet died (yes I am 110% projecting)(no I don't care)(yes i know it's been years)(no I'm not over it)
> 
> If you know what tv couple Maggie is referencing when she realizes she needs 'to hit[Alex] over the head with this' please come be my friend because I miss them, we can talk about the stupid amount of time my brain spent wandering off thinking about how a character like Maggie would have gotten invested in that particular couple in a believable way that wasn't just 'lesbians'
> 
> Look I know Maggie 'I'm a detective, I detect' Sawyer would suss out kara being Supergirl pretty damn quick if she hasn't already but I'm a complete sucker for all the shenanigans and hilarity available when she just doesn't know.
> 
> And apparently my obnoxiously long A/Ns are somewhat proportional to the word count so apologies for that.
> 
> I was getting to the point where I honestly didn't think I was ever going to finish this and it was such a relief to hit that post button, hope ya'll enjoyed :) As always you can find me at [change-the-rules](http://change-the-rules.tumblr.com/) so come say hi or yell, whatever.


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